UC-NRLF 


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SPORT  AND  TRAVEL 
IN  BOTH  TIBETS 


f 


t 


V 


LADY 


V, 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


SPORT  &  TRAVEL 
IN  BOTH  TIBETS 

By   LADY  JENKINS 


WITH  MAP  AND  TWENTY-FIVE 
COLOURED  ILLUSTRATIONS  EX- 
ACTLY REPRODUCED  FROM  THE 
AUTHORESS'S  ORIGINAL  SKETCHES 


Printed  and  Published  by 
BLADES,  EAST  &  BLADES,  23,  ABCHURCH  LANE,  LONDON,  E.G. 


DEDICATED 
TO     MY     FRIEND 

MISS    FRANCIS    AUGERAND. 


''WrTT?'^    IN,    Qp^tTAT 


sritaim, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/duabofturkestanpOOrickrich 


PREFACE. 


»T  the  request  of  many  friends  who  are 
interested  either  in  Sport  or  Travel, 
I  have  written  the  accompanying  pages 
from  the  notes  in  my  diary  kept  during  my 
expedition  in  both  Tibets.  The  illustrations  are 
reproduced  from  my  own  sketches  made  on  the 
spot,  sometimes  under  great  difficulties — in  no 
instance  have  I  tried  to  present  a  finished  picture, 
but  rather  to  faithfully  portray  the  strange,  wonderful 
colourings  and  contours  of  this  almost  unknown 
part  of  the  world. 

I  am  greatly  indebted  to  Miss  B.  Pughe  for  the 
picture  of  the  curios,  which  I  bought  in  Tibet, 
also  to  the  Geographical  Society  for  the  map  on 
which  my  route  is  marked,  but  most  of  all  my  thanks 
are  due  to  His  Highness  the  Maharajah  of  Kashmir 
for  the  facilities  he  gave  me,  and  for  his  unvarying 
courtesy  and  kindness. 

The  photogravure  on  the  cover  of  the  book 
contains,  besides  the  animals  described,  specimens  of 
Markhor,  Ibex,  and  Barrasingh,  which  I  shot  on  my 
return  journey  from  Leh,  but  which  is  not  recorded 
for  fear  of  wearying  my  readers  by  taking  them  twice 
over  the  dreary  road  between  Leh  and  Bombay. 

MINNA  JENKINS. 

CiLBRONNAU, 

Nr.  Cardigan, 
October^  igog. 


DSaas 


ivi311965 


DESCRIPTION     OF     TROPHIES     SHOT 
BY   LADY   JENKINS   IN    1906. 


Ovis  Ammon 

I 

Tibetan   Gazelle 

I 

Tibetan  Antelope 

4 

Shapu -         -         -         - 

3 

Burhel         -         _         _ 

2 

Barrasingh 

2 

Ibex     _         -         _         - 

2 

Markhor     -          -          - 

2 

LIST   OF   PLATES. 


FACING 

PAGE 

I. 

Srinagar         -         -         -         - 

preface 

II. 

Fishing  in  the  Wular  River 

- 

0 

III. 

Over  the  Zogi-La 

- 

5 

IV. 

Ladaki  Woman  and  Baby     - 

- 

10 

V. 

Lamayuru       _          -          -          - 

- 

14 

VI. 

Local  Shikari        _         _         - 

- 

16 

VII. 

Leh        _        -        -        -        - 

- 

19 

VIII. 

Curios  -         -         -         -         - 

- 

22 

IX. 

MiROO    -           -           -           -          - 

- 

24 

X. 

Mani-Wall  and  Chortens  - 

- 

27 

XI. 

NiBRA      _            -            -            -            - 

- 

32 

XII. 

Burhel  {Ovis  nakura)      -         - 

- 

36 

XIII. 

Sabana  (the  Cook) 

- 

39 

XIV. 

Tundook         -         -         -         - 

- 

43 

XV. 

Baggage  Yaks       .         .         - 

- 

45 

XVI. 

Pangong  Lake       _         -         - 

- 

52 

XVII. 

Phobrang  (14,500  feet  above  sealevi 

el) 

54 

XVIII. 

TooLooMERBo  (green  river) 

- 

61 

XIX. 

Antelope  Plain     -         -         - 

- 

62 

XX. 

Tundook  II  and  Goatherd  - 

- 

69 

XXI. 

Camp  in  Pangong  Nullah     - 

- 

73 

XXII. 

Crossing  the  Marsemik  La- 

- 

IS 

XXIII. 

Snow  Trout  (  i  4,500  ft.  above  sea  level) 

76 

XXIV. 

Starting  for  the  Chang  La 

- 

78 

XXV. 

Devils'  Dance       _         _         _ 

- 

87 

m 


t*f 


CHAPTER     I. 


HE  guide  books  will  tell  you,  with 
bewildering  references  to  works  you 
have  never  read  and  maps  you  do  not 
possess,  the  way  from  Bombay  to  Srinagar.  They, 
however,  wisely  omit  any  mention  of  the  awful  heat  of 
the  two  days'  and  nights'  train  journey  to  Rawal 
Pindi,  and  in  graphic  descriptions  of  lovely  scenery  no 
suggestion  is  made  of  the  torture  of  the  three  days' 
drive  in  a  bumpy,  springless  tonga.  But  for  those 
persons  foolish  enough  to  contemplate  leaving  Srina- 
gar, they  are  unanimous  in  advising  a  halt  of  several 
days.  A  stay  was,  of  course,  necessary  for  me,  as 
arranging  the  outfit  and  stores  for  such  a  lengthy 
journey  takes  time ;  being  the  guest  of  His 
Highness  the  Maharajah  of  Kashmir,  and  thanks 
to  his  great  kindness,  everything  was  made  easy, 
and  I  was  spared  the  many  unnecessary  delays  which 


2 

most  travellers  in  Kashmir  have  to  learn  to  endure. 
Nibra,  the  shikari,  met  me  as  arranged,  and  acting  on 
my  firm  belief  that  a  good  manager  will  always  do 
better  if  he  has  entire  control,  I  explained  to  him  what 
I  wanted  and  where  we  were  to  go.  Also  that  he 
could  arrange  everything  in  his  own  way,  buy  the 
stores  and  equipment  at  the  shops  that  gave  him  the 
best  commissions,  etc.,  with  the  fortunate  result  that 
after  four  days  of  ceaseless  bargaining  and  fearful 
battles  with  boatmen  and  camp  servants,  we  started, 
a  cheery  party,  composed  mainly  of  Nibra's  relations 
and  friends. 

I  was  amused  to  learn  from  Ramjhan  (the  servant 
I  brought  with  me  from  India)  that  Nibra  is  afraid 
my  hands  are  too  small  for  rifles,  and  my  feet  for  the 
endless  stony  places  we  were  to  march  over.  He  was, 
however,  reassured  by  Ramjhan,  who  told  him  won- 
derful stories  of  my  journey  to  Somaliland,  and 
magnified  the  five  tigers  I  was  lucky  enough 
to  shoot  in  India  into  fifteen.  It  was  not  until 
we  had  left  Leh  that  Nibra  confessed  he  never 
expected  the  Ladysaheb,  "  looking  like  a  town  lady 
and  not  a  shikari,  and  being  horribly  weak  and   thin, 


Plate  II. 


FISHING  IN    THE  WULAR  RIVER. 


5 

could  be  so  strong  and  walk  so  well."  Nibra  is  the 
first  person  who  is  not  at  all  shocked  at  my  going 
alone — he  thinks  it  quite  sensible,  and  assures  me  "he 
will  be  there,"  and  from  that  moment  to  the  time  of 
my  return,  he  was  there  ;  never  obtruding  or  fussing, 
but  when  wanted,  his  helping  hand  or  strong  back 
was  ready,  always  a  faithful  and  encouraging  guide,  if 
a  somewhat  silent  one.  And  as  the  months  went  by 
and  I  learnt  the  resources  and  quiet  strength  of  his 
character,  I  was  first  amazed  and  then  delighted  at 
this  grown-up  child's  views  of  life,  cities,  and 
countries  he  had  never  seen.  Oh !  fellow  sportsmen 
and  ex])lorers,  beware  of  what  you  say  and  do  in 
foreign  lands,  for  whole  nations  and  countries  are 
judged  by  you,  the  first  and  possibly  the  only 
example  they  may  have  of  your  countrymen. 

The  route  from  Srinagar  to  Leh  is  a  wonder 
way,  and  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  in  the  brief  242 
miles  you  can  pass  through  such  different  lands  and 
climates.  I  left  Srinagar,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  in  a 
large  doonga  or  house-boat,  having  wisely  taken  the 
precaution  to  order  the  servants  and  baggage  boats  to 
keep  out  of  earshot ;  and  floating  and  rowing  down 


B   2 


4 

to  the  Wular  Lake,  one  could  almost  imagine  oneself 
in  or  near  Venice.  Promises  of  baksheesh  made  the 
relays  of  boatmen  row  well,  and  they  landed  us  at 
Gundubal  in  the  early  morning.  Venice  and  romance 
were  soon  forgotten  in  the  truly  Indian  scene 
of  hopeless  muddle  and  wrangling  as  the  boats 
were  unloaded.  The  reason  for  the  large  stores  of 
rope  which  we  had  brought  with  us  was  obvious  when 
we  saw  the  miserable  inefficiency  of  the  cord  and 
pieces  of  string  brought  with  the  ponies  to  fasten 
their  loads.  Whilst  I  breakfasted  under  a  lovely 
chenar  tree,  Nibra  took  command,  and  fairly  soon 
everything  was  in  order  and  the  march  begun ;  the 
ponies  looked  comically  small  and  helpless  under 
their  bulging,   bulky  loads. 

India  in  its  turn  was  left  behind,  and  for  the  next 
two  days  we  rode  through  lovely  pastures  of  sweet 
grass  and  fields  of  grain  and  waving  Indian  corn — a 
small  Rhineland.  The  meadows  were  carpeted  with 
flowers — larkspur,  meadowsweet,  wonderful  pink 
mallows,  wild  roses,  and  festoons  of  the  bridal 
creeper.  The  mountains  which  rose  on  either  side 
sheer  above  us,  were  fringed  and  draped  with  firs  and 


/■i4^4.i^*  tX.^^-t^*"^-<  <^-/ 


Platk  III. 


OVER    THE  ZOGI-LA. 


5 
pines,  and  the  slopes  below  with  great  walnut  trees  and 
whitey-green  willows,  harmonising  well  with  the  river, 
which  is  an  unusual  blue-grey  colour.  Then  we  rode 
along  the  banks  of  the  rushing  Scind  River,  winding 
through  deep,  quiet  woods  that  reminded  me  of  the 
Tyrol.  As  the  valley  mounted  and  the  pine  woods  and 
snows  came  into  sight,  I  believed  I  was  in  a  part  of 
Switzerland  I  had  not  yet  seen.  Then  we  climbed  the 
Zogi-La  Pass,  and  there  are  no  more  comparisons. 
You  look  down  from  its  summit  on  one  side  into 
the  smiling,  happy  land  of  Kashmir,  and  on  the 
other,  you  get  your  first  view  of  the  extraordinary 
land  known  as  Western  Tibet — here,  I  may  say, 
travelling  in  comfort  ceases.  We  were  unlucky 
crossing  the  Pass,  as  owing  to  a  very  recent  landslip, 
the  track  was  almost  blocked,  and  one  of  the  ponies 
making  a  false  step,  fell  over  the  edge  and  was 
dashed   to  pieces. 

Turning  our  backs  on  Kashmir,  we  descended 
the  Zogi-La.  Some  way  down  we  were  obliged  to  pass 
a  newly-fallen  avalanche  and  to  cross  a  log  bridge 
over  what  ought  to  have  been  a  tiny  stream.  Instead, 
however,  owing  to  the  displaced  and  melted  snow,  the 


stream  had  become  a  roaring  torrent,  and  it  was  quite 
a  nerve- shaking  walk,  crossing  without  even  a  handrail ; 
evidently  a  strong  head  is  better  than  brains  in  this 
country !  It  was  a  wonderful  sight  to  see  most  of  the 
laden  ponies  cross  without  a  falter  or  slip — three  poor 
little  fellows,  however,  could  not  be  made  to  face  the 
bridge  till  their  loads  had  been  removed,  and  then 
they  walked  trembling  over,  this  delay,  of  course, 
making  us  very  late  getting  to  camp. 

The  climatic  conditions  were  now  becoming 
most  trying,  the  cold  being  intense  during  the  night 
and  early  mornings. 

As  the  sun  rose  over  the  great  massive  and 
towering  rocks,  the  heat  became  unbearable,  being- 
accentuated  when  we  passed  through  the  deep  valleys 
and  gorges,  the  loose  stones  reflecting  the  heat, 
making  the  air  hot  and  dry  as  in  an  oven ;  the  dust 
was  awful,  my  face  and  lips  began  to  crack  and 
chap.  I  can  almost  hear  you  say:  "Why  did  she  not 
take  some  cold  cream  with  her?"  I  did,  and  used  it  all 
in  a  very  short  time,  and  afterwards  bought  all  there 
was  in  Leh  and  used  all  that  too.  On  looking  back  on 
my  journey  and  comparing  the  horrors  of  mountain 


7 
sickness,  sleeplessness  caused  by  the  high  altitude, 
terrible  cold  and  even  hunger,  taken  all  round,  the 
constant  pain  and  discomfort  of  my  cracked  cheeks 
and  lips  was  the  worst  to  bear.  Of  course,  for  men 
it  is  better — they  surround  their  faces  with  beards, 
whiskers  and  moustaches,  but  I  was  cruelly  glad  to 
see  the  lips  of  my  coolies,  guides  and  servants 
getting  gradually  worse  and  worse,  and  to  know 
that  I  was  not  suffering  alone !  The  next  few 
days  were  spent  riding  endlessly  up  and  down 
the  road  to  Maulbekh.  The  track  is  so  narrow 
that  the  pack  ponies  had  to  walk  on  the  crumb- 
ling edge  with  sometimes  a  sheer  drop  into 
the  river  below.  At  first  I  tried  very  hard  to 
make  the  pony  I  was  riding  keep  to  the  centre 
of  the  path  instead  of  the  unsafe  edge,  but 
gave  it  up  when  it  was  explained  that  the  ponies 
generally  carry  packs,  and  when  so  laden  there 
is  only  just  room  if  they  walk  on  the  edge. 
They  get  so  accustomed  to  this  that  I  noticed 
some  loose  driven  ponies  walking  carefully  in  the 
same  way. 

Poor  Ramjhan,  who  at  first  scorned  a  pony,  after 


8 

a  few  days  became  so  footsore  and  worn  out  that  be 
was  obliged  to  ride,  and  the  reason  for  his  reluctance 
was  at  once  patent  to  everyone.  There  was  only  one 
place,  the  saddle,  where  Ramjhan  never  seemed  to 
be ;  it  became  the  joke  of  the  day,  and  the  freshest 
pony  was  always  secretly  reserved  for  him.  I  have 
seen  him  travel  for  quite  a  long  way  hanging  from  the 
pony's  neck,  round  which  he  had  clasped  both 
his  feet  and  hands.  I  think  Monsieur  Chocolat,  in 
Paris,  could  learn  a  few  new  falls  from  him.  But  the 
most  comical  part  of  all  was  to  see  him  mounting.  All 
Ladaki  and  Tibetan  saddles  are  the  same — horrible 
wooden  affairs — rightly  described  by  a  well-known 
traveller  as  "  torture  saddles."  The  gap  between  the 
rough  wooden  ends  is  filled  in  with  sheepskins 
loosely  thrown  on.  Ramjhan  used  to  put  one  foot 
in  the  stirrup  and  clutch  wildly  at  the  saddle,  which 
either  turned  round  and  left  him  lying  on  the  ground 
under  the  pony,  or,  he  tore  the  sheepskins  away 
waving  them  over  the  pony's  head ;  this  startles  even 
a  pack  pony,  and  Ramjhan,  his  foot  entangled  in  the 
stirrup,  used  to  follow  the  pony  on  one  leg  till 
someone  could  stop  laughing  enough  to   go   to  his 


9 

rescue.  He  gave  up  all  these  methods  in  time, 
and  ordered  the  coolies  to  lift  him  into  the 
saddle.  They  always  deposited  him  on  purpose, 
either  in  front  or  behind  the  wooden  peaks,  and 
his  timid  attempts  to  get  into  the  saddle,  so  often 
ending  in  disaster,  caused  the  caravan  endless 
merriment. 

We  passed  first  through  miles  of  utter  desola- 
tion, and  saw  enough  stones  with  which  to  metal 
the  roads  of  the  civilised  world,  then  through  great 
granite  rocks  enough  to  build  whole  cities  with,  and 
last,  near  Maulbekh,  through  sandstone  mountains. 
It  was  there,  passing  between  the  great  figures  carved 
in  rock,  that  I  first  reahsed  we  were  in  the  Buddhists' 
country.  The  few  people  we  saw  had  the  Mongolian 
features  and  finely  pencilled  eyebrows,  but  not  the 
sallow  skins,  of  the  Chinese,  their  complexions  being 
more  hke  the  Northern  Indians.  Their  wonderfully 
bright  red  cheeks,  quaint  head-dresses  and  ornaments 
of  uncut  turquoise  add  greatly  to  their  picturesque- 
ness,  and  they  have  the  wide,  brave,  unblinking  stare 
which  I  have  never  seen  in  thickly  populated 
countries.     The  men  wore  pigtails  and  leather  sabots 


\ 


jf 


lO 


with  striped  and  coloured  leg  pieces  lined  with 
sheepskins. 

The  marriage  customs  of  Ladak  are  surprising 
and  terrible.  Polyandry  is  the  rule — one  woman 
being  the  wife  of  all  the  brothers  of  a  family. 
Amongst  the  richer  people  three  brothers  are  sup- 
posed to  share  a  wife,  and  the  younger  brothers  join 
a  monastery ;  but  amongst  the  poorer  classes  the 
wife  is  the  wife  of  any  number  of  brothers. 

All  the  children,  however,  are  the  children  of 
the  eldest  brother,  and  inherit  the  property  at  his 
death,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  younger  brothers. 
There  is  no  actual  marriage  ceremony.  If  there 
are  only  two  or  three  brothers  in  a  family  the 
wife  may  choose  another  husband,  who  comes  to  live 
in  the  house  amicably  with  the  others.  In  spite  of 
this,  divorce  is  easily  arranged.  If  the  wife  and 
eldest  brother  do  not  agree,  they  separate,  and  she 
may  marry  another  family  of  brothers  without  con- 
sulting the  younger  brothers  of  the  first  husband. 

But  after  nine  marriages  the  woman  becomes  a 
widow  !  I  do  not  know  what  reason  is  given  by  the 
learned  to  account  for  the  great  numbers  of  Lamas  in 


Plate  IV. 


LADAKI  WOMAN   AND  BABY. 


II 


Ladak,  but  to  me  it  is  perfectly  obvious  and  simple — 
the  younger  brothers  no  doubt  flee  from  the  happy 
home  ruled  over  by  the  eldest  brother  and  invaded 
by  the  temporary  husbands. 

The  Lamas  can  have  no  sense  of  humour,  as  the 
"  gods  "  stuck  up  on  the  route  are  really  very  comic, 
and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  they  must  also  be 
very  unselfish,  for  their  monasteries  are  perched  on 
bare  rocks,  in  most  unpleasant  places,  where  no  one 
else  would  think  of  living. 

At  I^arbu  there  was  a  most  welcome  change  from 
the  endless  daily  ride  of  about  22  miles — this  distance 
may  seem  nothing  to  those  whose  idea  of  riding 
means  pleasant  canters  and  gallops  over  lovely  open 
country,  but  here  it  is  one  unvarying  stumbling  walk, 
always  up  or  down  hill,  lasting  from  6  a.m.  to  6  or 
7  p.m.  every  day.  From  Srinagar  to  Leh  fresh  ponies 
can  be  hired  about  every  10  to  14  miles,  so  we  were 
able  to  do  double  marches  every  day.  One  of  the 
villagers  came  to  tell  us  that  there  were  shapu  (Om 
vignei)  on  the  hills,  so  the  camp  took  a  well-earned 
rest.  I  was  glad  at  last  to  handle  my  rifle — it 
seemed  such  a  long  time  since  it  had  been  packed  up 


12 

at  Bombay.  We  left  very  early — about  4  a.m. — 
Nibra,  the  local  shikari,  the  lunch  coolie,  and  myself. 
It  must  be  explained  that  the  lunch  coolie's  duties 
are  not  merely  to  carry  a  packet  of  sandwiches ; 
he  carries  the  whole  party's  food  for  the  day, 
which  was  cumbersome,  because  it  included  a  teapot 
and  kettle,  also  a  feed  for  the  pony  I  rode,  as  it  is 
impossible  to  rely  on  finding  any  grazing.  He  had 
to  stay  with  the  pony  during  our  absence  and  never 
allow  it  to  make  a  sound  or  movement  if  we  were 
near,  and  after  we  had  stalked  for  hours  and  gone 
miles,  he  had  to  miraculously  appear.  Need  it  be 
said  he  was  always  in  disgrace  and  covered  with  abuse, 
as  it  is  not  possible  for  anything,  except,  perhaps,  a 
bird,  to  do  what  he  was  expected  to  do.  I  quite 
realized  this,  and  at  once  fell  into  the  habit  of  saving 
all  my  ill-temper  for  the  poor  tiffin  coolie,  who,  later 
on,  repaid  good  for  evil  by  saving  my  life. 

The  dawn  was  very  beautiful  as  we  climbed  up 
the  hills.  My  poor  pony,  as  we  neared  the  summit, 
became  quite  breathless,  and  so  did  I,  when  every  now 
and  then,  to  ease  him,  I  tried  to  walk.  At  last  we 
saw  a  herd  of  ewes,  and  while  we  were  watching  them 


13 

a  snowstorm  came  on,  with  a  horrible  biting  wind. 
We  lay  down  behind  some  rocks  till  about  4.30,  when 
the  snow  stopped  and  we  saw  three  rams  on  the 
opposite  crags.  They  were,  of  course,  out  of  range, 
but  the  local  man  pointed  out  the  way  to  approach 
them.  We  rushed  down  the  hill  only  to  find  that 
they  had  moved  on,  and  we  had  to  retrace  our  steps, 
climbing  laboriously  up  again.  The  beating  of  my 
heart  quite  frightened  me,  and  I  felt  so  stupid  as  I 
literally  gasped  painfully  for  breath.  At  last  we  saw 
them,  but  it  became  suddenly  very  dark,  and  we 
were  obliged  to  return  to  camp,  which  we  reached  at 
9.45.  I  was  too  tired  for  dinner,  and  went  to  bed 
and  to  sleep  at  once — soon,  however,  to  awake, 
shivering  with  cold,  to  find  my  hot  water  bottle 
had  not  been  screwed  up,  and  that  I  was  in  a 
pool  of  freezing  water.  After  a  great  fuss  I  got  to 
sleep  again,  only  to  be  awakened  by  one  of  the  half 
wild  village  dogs,  who  was  eating  the  candle  in  my 
little  lamp  with  noisy  enjoyment.  It  seemed  as  if  I 
had  never  slept  at  all  when  we  started  next  morning 
on  our  march  to  Lamayuru,  which  we  reached  at 
sunset.      Whilst   the    camp   was   being   arranged    I 


hastily  made  this  sketch,  but  it  falls  terribly  short 
of  what  I  intended.  The  setting  sun  turned  the 
sandstone  rocks  to  a  glowing  pink,  and  the  strange 
fissures  and  chasms,  bridged  by  houses,  to  beautiful 
purple  and  mauve  shadows,  incredibly  soft  and  tender. 
The  nest-like  buildings  seemed  almost  to  hang  in  the 
air,  and  it  needed  the  deep  booming  of  the  conch 
shells  calling  the  Lamas  to  evening  prayer  to  remind 
one  that  you  were  looking  at  the  dwellings  of  men. 

It  was  at  Lamayuru,  after  a  very  long  day  up 
and  down  the  hills  beyond  the  monastery,  that  I  had 
my  iirst  chance  at  the  shapu.  We  again  took  a  local 
shikari,  who  was  very  amusing.  About  6  a.m.,  when 
we  were  half-way  up  a  hill,  we  met  a  Lama  driving 
some  donkeys  and  sheep,  and  soon  after  wc  came  on 
some  new  tracks  of  shapu  and  began  stalking.  The 
Lama  was  requested  and  bribed  with  a  small  coin  not 
to  shriek  at  his  donkeys  and  sheep,  but  to  drive  them 
in  silence  for  some  time  until  we  were  well  over  the 
summit.  He  seemed  very  pleased  with  the  bribe,  but 
his  cries  and  shouts  were  even  louder  than  before,  so 
the  local  shikari  rushed  after  him  with  his  big  climbing 
stick  and  chased  him  about  half  a  mile  down  the  hill. 


15 
where  he  stopped,  the  Lama  still  running  from  the 
few  well-directed  stones  that  the  shikari  hurled  after 
him.     It  was  a  very  comical  scene. 

With  a  pause  for  breakfast  we  went  on  climbing 
steadily  till  we  reached  the  summit  at  mid-day. 
Here  we  halted,  there  being  no  necessity  of  going 
anywhere  else,  as  we  could  see  what  looked  like  the 
whole  world  from  where  we  stood — the  hundreds 
of  ridges  and  summits  of  hills  were  like  rolling 
waves  at  our  feet.  It  is  easy  to  believe  the 
world  is  round  from  these  great  heights,  as  the 
horizon  becomes  a  perfect  circle.  On  this  mountain 
there  was  no  snow,  although  in  some  places  it  lay 
thousands  of  feet  below  us.  Sheltered  in  the 
curves  of  the  mountains  were  lovely  mossy  grass 
places  and  some  vivid  blue  gentians  and  a  sort  of 
edelweiss.  We  rested  there  till  about  3.30,  carefully 
watching  the  hills  with  our  field  glasses.  We  saw 
several  herds  of  shapu,  but  all  on  peaks  that  were 
about  a  day  or  two's  walk  from  where  we  stood  ;  but 
at  last,  just  as  we  were  beginning  to  despair,  our 
guide  showed  us  two  rams  grazing  near,  but  far 
below  us,  and  going  in  the  direction  of  the  pony  and 


i6 

tiffin  coolie,  who  luckily  were  well  out  of  sight  behind 
a  lower  hill.  I  have  no  words  to  properly  describe 
the  mad  rush  down  hill  that  followed — our  plan  being 
to  get  on  to  the  part  of  the  hill  where  the  shapu  were, 
and  then  to  stalk  them.  Nibra  and  the  local  shikari 
held  me  on  either  side  as  we  ran  down  the  precipitous 
sides  of  the  mountain.  One  of  us  was  always  faUing, 
and  sometimes  when  we  dislodged  a  large  stone 
or  rock  on  the  loose  crumbling  hillside,  we  all  three 
fell  together. 

There  was  a  pause  when  we  came  to  a  dangerous 
corner.  Nibra  went  first  to  reconnoitre.  Just 
as  I  was  preparing  to  follow,  he  reappeared,  his 
eyes  nearly  out  of  his  head  with  excitement,  and  his 
finger  held  up  for  silence.  He  whispered  to  me  to 
follow  him  and  shoot  at  sight,  as  the  shapu  were 
on  some  rocks  across  a  nullah  about  150  yards 
away. 

I  crawled  round  the  rock  and  there  they 
were!  Nibra  had  loaded  my  375°,  and  in  a  sitting 
position  I  aimed ;  unfortunately,  resting  my  left 
hand  on  my  knee,  just  as  I  fired,  the  ground  gave 
way,  my  foot  slipped  and,  of  course,  1   missed  him  ; 


Plate  VI. 


LOCAL  SHIKARL 


17 
but  they  stood  quite  still,  and  I  had  a  lovely  shot 
with  my  second  barrel  and  knocked  one  over. 
Nibra  passed  me  my  second  rifle,  and  I  was  lucky 
in  getting  the  other  one,  who  kept  stopping  to 
look  back  at  his  dead  companion.  Nibra  and  the 
shikari  were  visibly  pleased.  No  one  who  has 
not  experienced  the  long,  trying  and  tiring  stalks 
can  realize  the  delight  of  success,  and  I  was  more 
than  glad,  for  so  much  depends  on  the  shikari's 
opinion  of  your  shooting,  as  if  they  consider  you 
a  bad  or  unlucky  shot,  they  will  not  give  you  nearly 
as  many  chances,  or  take  the  great  and  untiring 
pains  they  do,  for  one  they  trust  not  to  disappoint 
them  by  a  miss  at  the  end  of  a  long,  perhaps 
cleverly-arranged  stalk. 

The  heads  measured  31  and  27^  inches.  The 
31  inches  is  the  largest  shot  here  for  very  many 
years,  so  my  shooting  good  luck  is  following  me. 


CHAPTER    II. 


*T  is  no  longer  a  surprise  to  me  that 
so  few  people  see  Ladak.  After  the 
Zogi-La,  the  way  is  one  long  horror 
of  dust,  scorching  sun  and  landslips,  and  to  anyone 
with  a  bad  head  for  heights,  or  a  weak  heart,  the 
road  would  be  impossible.  Just  before  entering 
Leh  there  is  a  trying  five  miles  through  burning 
sand  up  to  the  town,  away  from  the  River  Indus, 
which  for  the  last  few  days  had  seemed  like  an  old 
friend,  the  track  having  apparently  been  designed  to 
show  how  often  it  was  possible  to  leave  and  rejoin  it. 

We  met  two  Englishmen  who  had  been  shooting 
beyond  Leh,  and  when  they  heard  that  I  intended 
to  go  beyond  Changchenmo  they  were  horrified,  and 
begged  me  to  look  at  their  cracked  and  swollen 
faces.  They  assured  me  it  was  a  country  fit  only 
for  suicides. 


-^ 


19 

As  we  approached  Leh  the  glamour  of  the  set- 
ting sun  was  over  the  old  fortifications  and  the 
ten-storied  palace  of  the  Gialpo  on  the  rocky  ridge, 
which  forms  one  end  of  the  town.  We  wended  our 
way  down  the  steps  under  the  gateway  and  up  the 
main  street,  which  contained  a  beautiful  line  of 
poplars  on  one  side,  just  then  shedding  little  balls 
of  cotton  wool  which  made  them  look  as  if  they 
were  standing  each  in  a  separate  snowstorm. 

The  telegraph  master  met  me  near  the  rest-house 
with  a  sheaf  of  messages  re-directed  from  Kashmir.  I 
shall  always  remember  his  kindness  and  sympathy, 
when,  after  spending  two  endless  days  waiting  at 
his  instrument,  he  at  last,  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
brought  me  the  reassuring  news  I  was  so  anxiously 
awaiting.  It  was  only  then  that  I  realized  how 
far  I  was  out  of  the  world  and  that  it  would 
take  less  time  to  get  from  London  than  from 
Leh  to  Bombay.  However,  as  Leh  was  to  be  the 
starting  point,  not  the  end  of  my  journey,  I  did 
not  allow  my  mind  to  dwell  on  getting  back,  but 
spent  two  more  very  busy  days  arranging  stores, 
transport  and  in  re-packing  my  own  belongings  and 

c    2 


20 

leaving  behind  all  the  comforts  and  luxuries  I  had 
brought  with   me  for  the  expedition. 

In  luxurious  shooting  parties  in  India  the 
baggage  question  never  arises,  but  my  experience 
in  Somaliland  had  taught  me  the  only  secret  of 
success  was  to  travel  light,  and  to  realize  at  the 
start  that  it  is  possible  to  do  without  everything 
except  food,  clothing  and  ammunition.  When  I 
had  sorted  my  possessions,  Nibra  asked  to  inspect 
my  luggage.  He  collected  several  of  my  garments 
and  said  they  must  be  lined  with  fur,  and  went 
off  to  the  bazaar  to  order  it  to  be  done.  When 
I  went  out  some  time  after  to  complete  a  lengthy 
bargain,  begun  two  days  before,  for  some  turquoise 
ornaments,  perhaps  my  amazement  can  be  imagined 
when  I  found  most  of  the  town  collected,  trying 
to  cut  out  the  fur  to  match  my  clothes,  which 
were  neatly  stretched  out  on  the  sand  of  the  High 
Street  of  Leh ;  advice  was  being  given  by  a  warlike 
Yarkandi  who  had  just  arrived  with  his  caravan  !  I 
fled  from  the  scene  and  visited  the  Moravian  Mission, 
a  set  of  brave  men  and  devoted  women  living  in  exile 
and  hardship   at  an   altitude  where  strong  men  find 


21 

difficulty  in  sleeping,  and  breathing  when  lying  down, 
and  little  children  fade  and  die,  and  where  their 
sacrifices  and  hopes  meet  with  little  or  no  reward. 
Converts  are  rare,  and  the  Mission  help  of  healing 
and  medicine  is  accepted  with  distrust  and  scant 
thanks ;  these  brave  men  and  their  no  less  brave 
wives  live  indeed  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  utter 
forgetfulness  of  themselves. 

In  Ladak,  out  of  20,000  inhabitants — all  Budd- 
hists— 4,000  are  Lamas  and  Chelas  (disciples),  so  that 
with  a  Lama  to  every  five  laymen,  missionaries  have 
very  little  chance!!  The  Ladaki  Buddhists  are  devil 
worshippers  and  intensely  ignorant,  superstitious 
and  uncivilized,  but  very  inquisitive  and  easily 
amused,  and  cheerfully  choose  a  life  in  which  cease- 
less wandering  under  heavy  loads  belonging  to  others, 
seems  to  be  the  principal  part.  In  religious  matters 
they  are  governed  by  the  Dalai  Lama  from  Potala, 
near  Lhassa. 

There  is  one  never-ending  joke — "ju-ju,"  pro- 
nounced "jew -jew,"  meaning  "salaam,"  or  "good-day," 
but  the  oftener  you  say  it  and  the  more  rapidly  you 
repeat  it,  the  more  the  Ladakis   and  Tibetans  grin 


22 


and  bow  and  laugh.  At  first  I  thought  them  idiotic, 
but  at  last  found  myself  laughing  quite  naturally,  as 
if  it  were  a  splendid  bonmot. 

The  Mission  house  had  a  wonderful  little  garden 
with  carrots,  turnips,  cucumbers,  and  even  a  few 
flowers,  and  I  gratefully  accepted  the  generous  supply 
given  me.  They  have  also  a  collection  of  ornaments, 
teapots  and  curios  which  have  been  bought  by  them 
at  intervals.  I  purchased  some  articles  of  interest 
which  were  placed  in  charge  of  the  telegraph 
master  until  my  return,  as  by  then  the  Mission  will 
be  closed  and  the  missionaries  and  joint  commissioner 
will  have  left,  as  no  Europeans  venture  to  stay  in  Leh 
for  the  winter. 

I  have  pleasant  memories  of  a  dinner  with 
the  joint  commissioner,  and  owe  him  and  the  Wazir 
great  thanks  for  all  their  kindness  in  helping  to 
arrange  my  caravan   and  stores. 

Mr.  A  pear,  of  Calcutta,  was  also  there,  from 
Baltistan,  where  he  had  been  shooting,  and  very 
kindly  delayed  his  return  to  Kashmir  in  order  to  go 
with  me  for  a  few  marches.  As  soon  as  I  received 
further  satisfactory  wires  from  Bombay  we  left,  and 


23 

after  safely  crossing  the  Marsahing  La,  I  parted  from 
Mr.  Apcar,  who  after  four  days  vainly  spent  in 
imploring  me  not  to  be  so  foolish  as  to  go  on, 
reluctantly  left  me  to  my  fate. 

I  suffered  in  Leh,  which  is  only  1 1,500  feet,  from 
sleeplessness  and  headache,  but  up  here  on  the  Rupshu 
Tablelands,  15,000  feet  above  the  sea  level,  with 
peaks  rising  all  round  of  2,000  to  5,000  feet,  I  felt  the 
horrible  sensations  known  as  mountain-sickness : 
terrible  headache,  and  after  every  20  minutes  or  half- 
hour's  sleep  a  dreadful  awakening,  as  struggling 
into  an  upright  position  imagining  that  you  will  die 
gasping  for  breath  if  remaining  lying  down.  This 
is,  of  course,  a  foolish  question  of  nerve  which  can 
soon  be  overcome,  but  worst  of  all  was  the  horrible 
feeling  of  depression  and  collapse  from  which  all 
travellers  in  Chinese  Turkestan  suffer  at  times. 

There  was  always  a  high  wind  blowing  ;  the  air 
was  sharp  and  clear  and  very  dry,  the  snow  line  is 
20,000  feet,  and  the  water  freezes  every  night  in 
summer.  Near  the  little  village  of  Miroo  with  the 
turquoise  and  sandstone  hills  a  meagre  field  of  carefully 
irrigated  barley  was  ripening.     We  arrived  at  a  very 


24 

exciting  moment  when  the  owners  of  the  field  were 
hurling  huge  stones  at  two  other  men,  who  were  busy 
throwing  stones  back  with  a  great  flow  of  words,  and, 
mercifully,  bad  aim.  The  battle  ceased  on  our  arrival, 
and  they  all  assisted  at  pitching  our  camp,  their 
enmity  forgotten  in  wonder  at  the  first  sight  of  a 
she  sea- devil,  i.e.^  English  lady. 

It  is  wonderful  that  barley  and  grain  should 
ripen  at  over  15,000  feet.  The  irrigation  of  the 
fields  is  sometimes  most  intricate.  There  are,  of 
course,  no  pipes,  and  it  is  quite  exciting  to  see  the 
way  the  water  is  allowed  to  rush  down  a  little  open 
mud  drain  with  a  miniature  dam  at  the  end  which 
causes  it  to  rush  up  another  little  drain  and  thus 
reach  a  higher  level,  with  many  little  channels  down 
which  the  water  flows,  irrigating  the  high  field,  and  if 
there  is  a  drop  of  precious  water  too  much  it  flows 
back  to  the  main  supply. 

After  my  evening  meal,  as  I  was  going  to  bed, 
the  whole  village  came  to  my  tent  to  ask  me  to  settle 
the  dispute  we  had  witnessed  in  the  barley  field.  No 
one  could  understand  what  the  quarrel  was  about, 
but  after  many  delays  and  questionings,  I  decided  in 


Plate  IX. 


MIROO. 


25 

favour  of  both  sides,  and  amidst  great  ju-ju-ing  and 
tea  drinking,  all  ended  happily.  These  tea  parties 
are  very  terrible,  as  instead  of  sugar  and  milk  a  piece 
of  rancid  butter  and  a  pinch  of  suttoo  (a  sort  of  flour) 
are  put  into  the  wooden  cup  ;  it  is  then  stirred  with 
the  finger — your  own  if  you  are  quick  enough  and 
brave  enough  to  put  it  into  the  boiling  tea — otherwise, 
it  is  politely  done  for  you  by  the  never-yet-has-been- 
washed  finger  of  the  man  squatting  next  you.  It 
must  then  be  drunk  and  the  cup  licked  clean  before 
putting  it  into  the  breast  of  your  sheepskin  coat. 

Next  morning  we  were  seen  off  by  the  villagers 
with  good  wishes  and  presents  of  two  old  hens  and 
three  eggs.  It  was  nice  to  feel  that,  except  for 
the  champas  who  live  in  tents  made  of  yak  and  sheep- 
skins, we  should  see  no  more  people;  we  were 
actually  in  the  land  of  the  Oris  ammon,  and  might 
any  day  or  moment  come  on  tracks  of  them. 
Nibra  was  firm,  and  made  us  do  another  week's  hard 
marching  before  we  began  shooting.  The  way  was 
horrible — nothing  but  stones  and  small  salt  lakes. 
We  all  suffered  from  the  want  of  fresh  water.  Later 
in   the  day  we  came  to  the  mani-walls  and  chortens 


26 

shown  in  the  sketch,  and  I  found  our  otherwise 
cheerful,  happy-go-lucky  coolies  cross.  I  could  not 
understand  the  reason  until  I  recalled  one  of  their 
customs,  which  is  to  keep  count  of  the  number  of 
chortens,  mani-walls  and  gompas  passed ;  therein  I 
had  failed,  but  soon  found  a  way  to  the  hearts  of 
the  Buddhist  coolies.  It  was  always  to  ride  or  walk, 
leaving  the  prayer-wall  on  your  right  hand.  The 
observance  of  this  sacred  custom,  the  guide  tells  me, 
will  be  certain  to  help  me  to  Heaven.  To  ensure 
getting  there,  every  good  Buddhist  must  carve  the 
prayer  "  om  mani  padmi  hum  "  on  a  stone  and  place 
it  on  one  of  the  built-up  heaps  of  stones,  and  when- 
ever he  passes,  these  words  must  be  often  repeated 
with  constant  bowings  and  salaamings.  I  give  some 
of  the  translations  of  "om  mani  padmi  hum": — 

"  Oh  jewel  of  the  lotus,  oh  ! " 

"  Ah,  the  jewel  is  in  the  lotus." 

"  Om,  the  jewel  in  the  lotus,  hum." 
so  that  although  the  words  of  the  prayer  are  always 
the    same,   perhaps    the    petitioner    reads    different 
meanings   into   them.     But   they  seemed  to  me  to 
be  merely  a  meaningless  formula. 


27 

I  have  pictured  in  the  plate  the  little  opening 
in  the  chorten  (tomb)  on  the  right.  The  dead  Lama 
whose  tomb  it  is,  having  been  burnt,  his  ashes 
are  then  collected  and  mixed  with  clay,  which  is 
worked  either  by  hand  or  cast  in  a  little  mould 
into  a  bas-relief  of  Buddha  and  placed  in  the  opening. 
I  sent  the  caravan  ahead,  telling  the  cook,  who 
respected  nobody  but  "  Allah  and  his  prophet 
Mohammed,"  to  remain  with  me,  with  some  mis- 
givings— the  wretched  cook  having  lost  his  courage 
at  the  critical  moment.  I  put  my  hand  in  the  small 
hole  and  found  three  little  images  of  Buddha;  two 
were  very  old,  but  one  was  distressingly  new  looking, 
so  I  put  it  back — for  the  same  absurd  and  undefined 
reason,  I  suppose,  that  will  allow  people  to  walk 
calmly  over  an  old  grave,  who  would  not  dream  of 
stepping  on  to  a  newly- made  mound. 

When  I  returned  to  Kashmir,  I  found  that  other 
travellers  had  dared  to  take  the  Httle  Buddhas,  and 
that  someone  had  given  them  the  name  of  "  potted 
Lamas." 


CHAPTER  III. 


»E  left  the  Lhassa  route  at  the  frontier 
and  turned  up  a  narrow  nullah,  where 
we  pitched  our  tent  near  a  lovely 
running  stream  of  fresh  water.  It  was  delightful  to 
camp  again  after  so  much  marching.  We  had  only- 
two  chickens  left,  so  I  allowed  them  to  roost  in  my 
tent,  as  the  nights  were  very  cold  and  they  had 
become  so  tame,  feeding  out  of  my  hand,  that  I 
gave  orders  to  spare  their  lives. 

We  found  Tundook,  who  had  been  sent  on  to 
look  for  tracks  of  Ovls  ammon,  awaiting  us  with  the 
splendid  news  that  Tibetan  gazelle  were  on  some 
hills  quite  near. 

The  next  day  we  made  an  early  start  in  a  snow- 
storm, which  suddenly  cleared,  and  we  found 
ourselves  in  the  middle  of  a  herd  of  kiang  (wild 
horses).     I  think  the   man  who  so  misnamed  them 


29 

could  never  have  seen  a  horse,  and  certainly  never  a 
donkey,  or  he  would  have  called  them  wild  donkeys 
in  spite  of  their  trot  and  gallop,  which  is  more  that 
of  a  pony.  They  are  very  inquisitive,  and  actually 
come  towards  anyone  who  will  stand  still,  but  never 
near  enough  to  allow  of  lassoing,  and  the  champas 
never  even  attempt  what  they  consider  the  impossible 
task  of  trapping  or  capturing  one.  Although  T  loved 
to  see  them,  I  hated  them  before  the  day  was 
over,  and  was  almost  tempted  to  do  as  the  shikaris 
wished,  and  shoot  one — they  were  constantly  getting 
between  us  and  the  gazelle  we  were  stalking,  and  by 
their  restless  and  uneasy  behaviour  giving  the  alarm, 
thus  warning  them  of  our  approach. 

So  began  a  tremendous  day,  the  longest  stalk  I 
have  ever  done  in  any  country,  and  when  at  last  Nibra 
persuaded  me  to  try  a  long  shot,  as  the  bucks  were 
again  making  for  the  open  plain  where  we  could  never 
hope  to  get  up  to  them,  I  horribly  misjudged  the 
distance  and  missed  with  both  barrels,  and  away  they 
went  uninjured  and  not  much  frightened !  I  measured 
the  distance  to  where  I  thought  my  bullets  struck, 
and  found  the  gazelle  had  been  much  further  than  I 


*■ 
imagined.     This,    I   think,  is    owing  to    the   intense 

clearness  of  the  air,  and  the  sameness — nothing  but 

stones — of  the  country. 

Very  disgusted  and  tired,  we  had  our  mid-day 

meal  at  3.30,  and  on  our  way  home  came  on  the  same 

bucks.     I  had  a  long,  impossible  shot,  and  again  my 

bullet   struck    the   ground   short  of  them.       I  was 

terribly    disappointed    at    my    bad    shooting.      The 

gazelle  is  a  very  small  beast,  and  perhaps  I  was  foolish 

to  attempt  such  a  long  shot !     Later  I  marked  a  spot 

for  a  target  and  fired  a  few  rounds  till  I   found   the 

range.     In  future  I  intend  to  aim  at  everything  over 

100  yards  as  if  it  were  twice  as  far !    It  is  those  trying, 

unsuccessful    days  that   make  the   good    days  such 

happy   ones.     On   the   way  home    I    tried   being    a 

Christian  Scientist — shutting  my  eyes  and  imagining 

a  windless  summer  day  with  lovely  green  grass  and 

shady   trees,  beautiful  soft   chairs,  and  the   scent  of 

flowers.    Just  as   I   was  forgetting  the  tearing  wind, 

the    awful    glare,    and    my    aching    self,     my    pony 

suddenly  rolled  over,  and   I   found    myself  and   the 

pony  sliding  down  a  little  precipice !    I  shall  not  try 

being  a  Christian  Scientist  again. 


Several  days  were  spent  in  tracking  and  stalking 
Tibetan  gazelle.  We  saw  several  herds  of  does 
and  one  solitary  buck,  and  again  several  bucks 
together^  but  stalking  on  this  wide  plain  with  no 
cover  except  stones  is  very  difficult,  and  I  could  not 
get  a  shot.  Once,  after  a  long  and  cleverly-arranged 
detour,  I  came  round  the  hill  I  had  been  making  for, 
to  find  myself  in  a  beautiful  position  about  80  yards 
from  the  gazelle,  but  they  were  all  does.  Later  we  met 
some  champas,  who  told  us  that  they  had  seen  three 
Ovis  ammon  with  lovely  horns  near  here.  Tundook 
engaged  one  to  show  us  the  place,  and  after  a  short 
night  we  left  camp  about  3.30  a.m.  The  snow  lay 
quite  thick  on  the  ground,  but  all  disappeared  as  the 
sun  rose.  After  about  two  hours'  ride  we  came  to  a 
nullah,  where  we  left  the  ponies,  and  there  began  a 
wonderful  climb  up  a  steep  valley  with  a  tiny  stream 
all  festooned  with  ice  and  crackling  hoarfrost,  which 
seemed  in  the  wonderful  stillness  to  make  an  appalHng 
noise  under  our  feet.  Slowly  we  proceeded,  panting 
at  each  step,  until  we  reached  a  great  height,  and  at  last, 
round  a  rocky  corner,  we  saw  the  three  Ovis  ammon 
coming  towards  us.    Nibra  and  I  hid  behind  the  ledge 


32 

and  the  others  stole  back.  T  wish  I  had  words  to 
describe  my  feelings  then,  after  all  those  weary  weeks 
of  marching  to  be  at  last  in  sight  of  the  animal  I  most 
wished  to  shoot,  and  the  horrid  dread  that  I  should 
miss  my  chance  !  But  all  feelings  were  negatived  in 
the  attempt  to  steady  myself  on  the  ledge  and  not  to 
pufF  and  pant  loudly  as  one  is  apt  to  do  at  great 
altitudes  and  after  severe  climbs.  Nibra  loaded  both 
the  rifles  and  I  was  ready  !  I  dared  not  move  to  get 
out  the  field  glasses,  but  made  up  my  mind  to  aim 
at  the  last  animal,  who  seemed  darker  and  bigger  than 
the  other  two.  Suddenly,  as  they  came  on,  the  last 
one  lifted  his  head  and  took  an  uneasy  look  round  ; 
the  others  meanwhile  altered  their  direction,  still 
coming  towards  us,  going  upwards.  The  one 
I  had  intended  to  shoot  turned  slowly  back  ;  the 
other  two  were  nearing  the  top,  when,  as  they 
stood  outlined  against  the  sky,  I  fired  and  hit 
the  leader,  who  sank  to  his  knees.  As  he  got 
up  I  had  another  shot  but  missed  him,  he  then 
disappeared  with  the  others  over  the  summit.  I 
was  then  hauled,  pushed,  and  dragged  up  that 
awful    precipice,    until    at    last    we     came     to    the 


/%;,<£-£  <><<^<«-/i  t^vzile-^ 


Plate  XI. 


NIBRA. 


33 
place  where  the  Ovi.s  ammon  had  fallen,  evidently 
badly  wounded,  and  on  looking  over  the  ledge  to  our 
horror  found  that  we  were  not  yet  at  the  top  of  this 
terrible  mountain,  but  only  on  another  ridge  with  a 
small  glacier  at  our  feet,  dividing  us  from  the  actual 
rocky  summit.  The  wounded  animal  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen,  being  hidden  from  view  by  the  rocks, 
which  rose  gaunt  and  bare  out  of  the  snow,  on 
which  we  could  track  him  by  the  bloodstains,  which 
became  more  and  more  frequent.  I  sank  down, 
absolutely  done,  and  feeling  very  ill,  my  heart  thump- 
ing, and  a  bursting  feeling  in  my  nose  and  ears;  even 
the  Tibetan  guide  sat  down  and  drew  in  his  breath 
with  a  whistling  noise,  while  Nibra  lay  down  panting 
and  sick.  We  had  forgotten  everything  in  our 
mad  rush,  hoping  to  get  another  shot  if  necessary. 
After  a  while  we  recovered  a  little,  but  I  felt 
too  ill  to  go  on,  so  Nibra,  rather  frightened, 
decided  to  stay  with  me.  I  sent  the  guide  and 
coolie  on,  the  former  insisting  on  taking  one  of  my 
rifles,  although  they  both  acknowledged  they 
could  not  shoot !  After  they  had  gone,  Nibra 
unpacked  some  cold  curry  and  rice  (we  could  not 


34 

make  a  fire,  as  we  had  not  brought  any  fuel),  and 
after  eating  I  felt  much  better,  and  then  it  suddenly 
dawned  on  us  that  we  had  been  riding  and  climbing 
since  3.30  a.m.  until  mid-day,  and  that  we  must  be 
faint  for  want  of  food,  as  well  as  exhausted  with 
climbing. 

We  lost  sight  of  the  coolie  and  guide,  but  pre- 
sently Nibra  noticed  some  vultures  and  ravens  circling 
round  the  rocks,  and  pointing  them  out,  solemnly 
salaamed,  congratulating  me  on  getting  my  first  Ovis 
ammon.  He  assured  me  that  not  only  must  the 
Ovis  ammon  be  dead,  or  the  vultures  would  not  be 
there,  but  that  our  men  must  be  there  too,  to  prevent 
the  birds  settling  on  their  prey.  I  felt  much  better, 
and  was  most  anxious  to  go  on,  but  Nibra  said  that  if 
I  did  so  we  should  never  find  my  pony,  and  I  could 
not  possibly  walk  all  the  way  to  camp,  so  I  very 
reluctantly  began  the  long  descent  to  where  we  had 
left  the  pony  by  the  little  stream  in  the  morning; 
here  we  found  him,  and   I   rode  back  to  camp. 

I  have  always  held  that  no  sportsman  should 
leave  a  wounded  animal,  but  circumstances,  and 
these    terrible    altitudes,   were   too   strong    for    me, 


35 
and  I  was  most  unhappy  till  the  men  came  in 
with  the  head — quite  a  beauty!  We  measured 
it  at  once,  413^  inches  by  171^  inches  round.  That 
night  I  had  a  delicious  dinner  of  mutton  broth  and 
chicken,  and  went  tired-out,  but  very  happy,  to  bed, 
and  slept  till  mid-day.  As  soon  as  I  had  dressed  I 
went  to  superintend  the  packing  of  the  much-prized 
trophy ;  it  was  very  neatly  sewn  up  in  a  portion  of 
the  skin  of  its  own  body,  the  head  and  neck  were 
not  ready  to  pack  for  some  days,  as  they  had  to 
be  carefully  stretched  and  dried.  I  had  long  before 
lost  count  of  the  days  of  the  week,  but  having 
written  my  diary  most  carefully  every  day,  I  knew 
the  date  until  the  end  of  August,  then,  having  no 
calendar  and  never  having  been  able  to  remember 
the  rhyme  which  begins  "  Thirty  days  hath,"  I  could 
not  fix  an  exact  date  for  the  Ovis  ammon,  but  after 
my  return  to  Bombay  on  the  15th  December  I 
found  the  memorable  day  had  been  the  ist 
September. 


D  2 


CHAPTER  IV. 


^NOW  was  everywhere,  and  the  cold  was 
intense  as  we  started  next  day  at  6  a.m. 
After  about  two  hours'  wandering,  we 
sighted  some  burhel  (Ovis  nakura)  and  after  stalking 
up  and  down  precipices  of  crumbling  shale  till 
I  felt  ready  to  sit  down  and  weep  tears  of  utter 
weariness,  we  suddenly  saw  a  herd  just  under 
us ;  they  must  have  crossed  a  lower  ridge,  whilst  we 
climbed  straight  up.  A  cautious  crawl  brought  me 
to  a  ledge  of  rock,  where  I  had  a  steady,  easy  shot, 
picking  out  the  male,  who  was  quietly  grazing  with 
his  females.  He  fell  over  and  rolled  down  the 
hill,  whilst  the  herd  disappeared  as  if  by  magic. 

After  a  painful  and  difficult  descent,  we  came 
down  to  him,  but  his  horns  measured  only  22  inches. 
Nibra  would  not  hear  of  my  taking  the  head,  as  he 


Plate  XII. 


BURHEL  {Ovis  nakura). 


37 

was  determined — I  think  almost  as  much  for  his  own 
honour  and  glory  as  mine — that  my  bag  should  not 
contain  a  single  bad  specimen,  and  he  was  sure  I  should 
shoot  others.  I  suppose  it  was  being  so  fearfully 
tired  made  me  feel  that  I  should  never  even  see 
another,  but  as  I  had  put  myself  in  Nibra's  hands  to 
do  the  best  he  could  for  me,  I  contented  myself  with 
ordering  the  burhel  to  be  left  where  he  was,  so  that  I 
could  at  least  make  a  sketch  of  him  as  well  as  have 
his  meat  for  the  camp. 

The  illustration  will  show  some  of  the  difficulties 
of  stalking  on  these  awful  hills ;  every  slow  step  one 
takes  dislodges  the  stones  and  loose  shale,  making 
a  tremendous  noise  as  they  roll  down  sometimes 
thousands  of  feet,  bumping  and  bounding  and  loosen- 
ing other  stones  in  their  descent.  If  you  attempt 
to  go  fast  you  generally  fall,  which  is  not  only 
painful  and  annoying,  but  with  a  loaded  rifle  in 
your  hand  is  dangerous;  and  although  we  were 
dressed  in  sheepskins,  matching  the  colour  of  the 
ground,  we  were  conscious  of  standing  out  more 
clearly  from  the  background  than  the  animals  them- 
selves.     If  it    were    not   that    they    make  as   much 


38 

noise   as  we    do  when  moving,   there   would   be   no 
possibility  of  evxr  getting  near  them. 

There  were  a  great  many  marmots — dear  little 
furry  beasts — all  about  this  country,  but  they  always 
escaped  into  their  holes  before  I   could  get  a  shot. 

The  return  to  camp  was  rather  trying,  as  instead 
of  going  back  on  our  own  tracks,  we  tried  what  we 
thought  would  be  a  more  direct  way,  and  it  was 
only  when  we  had  gone  too  far  to  turn  back  that  we 
found  ourselves  obliged  to  climb  down  several 
thousand  feet,  before  we  began  the  long  ascent  to 
our  camp.  I  remember  thinking  that  if  ever  I 
returned  to  civiHzation  I  should  never  even  pretend  to 
be  tired ! 

The  little  pony  was  fagged  too,  and  as  we  were 
zig-zagging  up  a  very  steep  hill  he  slipped  and  fell, 
knocking  down  the  two  coolies  who  were  carrying  the 
venison  in  his  helpless  roll  down  hill.  Many  of  my 
friends  have  laughed  at  me  at  different  times  for 
wearing  a  skirt  and  riding  on  a  side  saddle,  and 
generally  not  looking  more  the  part  of  a  sports- 
man !  but  I  was  thankful  that  day  that  even  in  this 
uninhabited  country  I  had  stuck  to  my  attire,  for  as 


Platb  XIII. 


SABANA  (The  Cook). 


39 
the  pony  fell,  the  skirt  for  a  moment  caught  in  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  as  I  was  on  the  precipice 
side  of  the  pony,  saved  me  from  certain  death.  The 
check  just  gave  me  time  to  throw  myself  flat, 
and  the  faithful  tiffin  coolie,  who  was  about  50 
feet  below,  was  able  to  stop  my  helpless,  headlong 
roll  into  the  abyss  below.  It  took  a  long  time 
for  the  men  to  get  down  to  the  pony  and  bring  up 
the  saddle,  but  I  was  glad  to  have  more  time  to 
recover,  for  I  shook  and  trembled  dreadfully,  and 
did  not  want  the  men  to  see  how  unnerved  I  was. 
It  was  some  days  before  I  realized  how  magnificently 
and  completely  I  was  bruised. 

Nearing  our  camp  the  cook  met  us  with  profuse 
apologies  for  the  coming  meal  of  Ovis  amnion,  which 
he  could  not  hope  would  be  good.  I  told  him  not  to 
mind,  as  last  night's  dinner  had  been  delicious,  but 
reminded  him  of  his  promise  not  to  kill  the  two 
wretched  fowls — "  But,  Protector  of  the  Poor,"  he 
said,  "  as  the  poor  ones  died  by  no  man's  hand, 
I  thought  the  Ladysaheb  would  not  mind,  and  so 
prepared  a  proper  meal!  But  alas!  to-night  this 
ancient  sheep,  unspiced  and  with  only  one  old  potato 


40 

will  not  please, — thy  humble  one  can  do  no 
more."  I  can  only  hope  that  the  fowls  died  of 
cold! 

Our  store  of  potatoes  was  now  exhausted;  it 
did  not  much  matter,  as  after  freezing  every  night 
and  thawing  every  day  for  weeks  they  were  almost 
uneatable.  I  no  longer  laughed  at  our  enormous 
supply  of  onions,  which  were  soon  to  become  our 
only  luxury. 

Next  day  we  started  early,  about  5.30  a.m.,  and 
soon  after  leaving  camp  we  saw  five  Ovis  ammon 
females,  and  immediately  after  came  on  new  tracks 
of  Tibetan  gazelle,  or  goa,  as  the  Tibetans  call 
them.  We  had  a  long  stalk  for  about  an  hour  and  a 
half  on  the  plain,  mostly  creeping  behind  stones  and 
rocks,  to  get  near  enough  for  a  shot.  After  a  long, 
agonising  crawl  on  my  knees  which  would  have  been 
painful  without  the  bruises  of  the  previous  day, 
with  my  rifle  in  my  hand,  I  arrived  at  the  ridge  of 
rocks  I  had  been  making  for,  and  after  carefully 
removing  my  hat,  peeped  over,  expecting  a  nice 
easy  shot,  only  to  find  them  gone !  A  long  look 
through   the    glasses    at    the    surrounding    country 


F .  J  .  B  a tch-sioT.  D  ej . 


81 


Sport   akd    Travel 

IN 

BOTH    Tibet s 


Sta-t\x-te      M^iles 

1X>  0  lO  20         30         *0         50 

]• 'II 


100 


.Authors  RouJtey  Heights  irv  Fee^. 

JjOU  =  J*CLSS  . 


41 

showed  no  trace  of  them.  I  might  have  saved  both 
my  knees  and  clothes — the  latter  had  begun  to  look 
pitiful.  I  only  had  two  other  outfits,  and  was 
anxious  that  this  one  should  last  a  little  longer. 

I  was  just  shutting  up  the  glasses,  when  I 
saw,  about  150  yards  away,  seven  bucks  coming 
round  a  hill  towards  us.  Nibra  had  by  this  time 
walked  up  and  gave  me  a  frightful  nudge  (a  gentle 
nudge  is  the  signal  to  shoot,  but  when  excited 
he  almost  knocks  me  over)  as  of  course,  he  dare 
not  even  whisper.  I  fired  at  the  third  one,  which 
seemed  larger  than  the  others,  but  missed  him 
with  my  first  barrel,  the  shot  fortunately  going 
high ;  he  then  stopped  a  moment,  and  I  knocked 
him  over  with  my  second.  I  allowed  Nibra 
to  have  two  shots  with  my  other  rifle,  but  of 
course,  he  hit  nothing.  It  is  a  strange  thing 
that  these  shikaris,  whose  lives  are  spent  in 
the  pursuit  of  sport,  have  no  idea  of  shooting,  yet 
their  greatest  pleasure  seems  to  be  firing  off 
rifles. 

We  had  to  make  a  detour  of  about  a  mile  to  get 
to    the    dead    gazelle,  as    there    was    an    impassable 


42 

nullah  between  us.  There  is  no  doubt  this  is  a 
terrible  country.  At  last  we  got  to  him,  and  on 
measuring  his  horns,  found  them  to  be  12^  inches. 
This  is  a  very  fair  size  for  these  little  beasts,  the 
record   being  about    14  inches. 

While  the  two  men  we  had  taken  with  us  found 
some  dried  burtza — a  stick-like  grass,  something  like 
heather — and  roots  for  a  fire,  Nibra  skinned  the 
gazelle,  and  the  Tibetans  took  a  haunch,  and 
after  warming  it  at  the  fire,  proceeded  to  devour  it 
with  fingers  and  teeth ;  of  course,  there  was  not 
sufficient  fire  to  really  cook  the  venison  even  if  they 
had  waited,  but  Nibra  said  "  This  is  nothing, 
these  ignorant  ones  do  not  mind  eating  raw  flesh." 
I  was  sorry  I  saw  them,  as  it  made  me  feel  quite  sick, 
and  the  eating  of  my  own  meal  difficult. 

As  we  had  been  stalking  in  a  circle,  we  were 
fairly  near  our  old  camp  and  on  the  line  of  march  to 
the  new  one,  so  we  waited  for  the  caravan,  which 
through  the  glasses  we  could  see  approaching,  and 
marched  with  them.  Until  it  became  too  monotonous 
and  wearisome,  it  was  quite  amusing  to  see  every 
baggage    animal    in    turn  lie   down   and  roll  on   his 


Plate  XIV. 


TUNDOOK. 


43 

burden,  bursting  the  ropes  and  unloading  himself, 
boxes  flying  open,  and  all  our  treasures  strewn  on 
the  ground.  ' 

Nibra  and  Tundook  rode  together  all  day. 
Evidently  there  was  a  great  discussion  going  on, 
everyone  being  consulted  in  turn ;  and  when  one 
unfortunate  coolie  under  examination  gave  an  answer 
which  was  displeasing  to  Nibra  or  Tundook,  he  had 
his  head  smacked  and  retired  to  drive  his  pony  or 
yak  again,  his  square  chocolate  face,  with  the  finely 
pencilled  eyebrows  and  smiling  mouth,  calm  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  During  the  mid-day  rest, 
Nibra  laid  the  result  of  the  heated  discussion  before 
me.  Tundook  said  he  spoke  Hindoostani,  but  I 
could  not  understand  him,  though  fortunately  Nibra 
did,  as  he  was  our  only  interpreter,  and  without  him  we 
could  not  communicate  with  the  coolies.  All  our 
plans  were  changed.  News  had  come  from  some 
champas  who  had  just  arrived  from  grazing  their 
flocks  on  the  plains  around  Changchenmo  that  many 
antelope  and  yak  had  been  seen  there ;  the  champas 
appeared  to  be  relatives  of  Tundook.  Tundook 
was    prepared    to    be  our  guide  on  two   conditions ; 


44 
one — that  the  purse  he  wore  slung  on  his  back, 
and  which  was  then  an  empty  ornament,  should 
be  full  of  notes  on  his  return,  and  the  other,  in 
case  either  he  or  I  did  not  return,  his  family 
should  be  provided  for.  All  this  was  agreed 
to,  so  we  pushed  on  over  a  difficult  and  little 
used  pass,  which  would  bring  us  to  the  Pangong 
Lake.  At  Phobrang  we  were  to  get  ponies  and 
yaks  for  the  expedition.  If  only  we  had  known  this 
earlier  we  could  have  gone  direct  from  Leh,  and 
saved  ourselves  about  14  days'  hard  marching.  The 
cook  was  to  go  as  far  as  Phobrang,  and  I  determined 
to  send   my  faithful   Ramjhan  back  with  him. 

Tundook  was  a  great  organiser — I  was  always 
trying  to  follow  his  apparently  tireless  though  shamb- 
ling steps.  I  have  sketched  his  back,  as  it  was  the 
view  of  him  I  knew  best,  with  his  pigtail  and  purse, 
his  teapot  in  his  cummerbund,  my  rifle  in  his  hand, 
and  the  bit  of  blue  rag  in  the  fur  cap  he  bought 
from  the  Lamas  '*  to  match  the  eyes  of  the  Ladysaheb 
and  to  bring  luck  to  the  expedition  !  "  He  sent  on 
two  of  our  coolies  to  order  ponies  and  yaks  to  meet 
us  at  uninhabited,   nameless   places,    commandeered 


Plate  XV. 


BAGGAGE   YAKS. 


45 

from  apparently  nowhere  by  the  magic  words  "double 
pay."  I  could  not  help  wondering  if  he  intended  me 
to  leave  this  un-named  mountain  ;  but  I  liked  and 
trusted  his  face,  and  forgot  to  be  anxious  in  my 
desire  to  get  all   the  trophies   I   could. 

There  was  so  much  time  for  thought  and  reverie 
on  these  long,  lonely  marches,  that  in  imagination 
I  passed  the  not-yet-shot  trophies  through  Rowland 
Ward's  hands,  and  allotted  them  places  in  the 
dear   old  oak-panelled    hall   in   Wales. 

The  whole  caravan  seemed  excited.  All  yaks 
are  irritating,  but  when  the  one  with  the  white  tail, 
who  was  far  the  most  obstinate,  laid  down  for  the 
second  time,  just  as  we  were  nearing  the  top  of 
the  Kotzuru  Pass,  and  rolled  on  the  kettles  and 
cooking  pots,  he  met  with  such  a  torrent  of  abuse 
that  I  was  quite  thankful  my  knowledge  of  the 
Tibetan  or  Ladaki  languages  was  limited  !  At  last 
we  reached  the  summit,  and  I  was  lost  in  thought 
as  I  gazed  in  wonder  at  the  magnificent  scene. 
Facing  us  was  a  sheer  descent,  leading  to  a  cup-like 
valley,  with  snow-topped  mountains  on  the  opposite 
side,  a  giant's  leap  from  where  we  stood,  and  lower 


46 

still,  stretches  of  emerald  greens  and  sapphire  blues, 
the  colours  of  a  peacock's  neck,  with  strips  of  white 
that  looked  like  snow,  but  which,  when  reached,  we 
found  to  be  crystallized  salt ;  and  stretching  away  to 
the  left,  a  sheet  of  water  like  a  mirror,  with  the 
mountains  brightly  reflected.  The  colours  in  Tibet 
are  more  wonderful  than  in  any  part  of  the  world  I 
have  seen.  A  soft  veil  of  exquisitely  graduated  rain- 
bow tints  seems  to  clothe  the  land,  so  that  not 
even  Switzerland  with  its  cruder  colours  can  compare 
with  it.  This  is  by  day,  but  before  sunrise  and  after 
sunset  the  country  strikes  one  almost  with  horror — 
it   is  so   bare,   desolate  and   unbeautiful. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  there  were  wild  geese  on  the 
lake,  I  stopped  the  caravan  in  its  noisy  descent,  but 
I  was  too  late,  the  geese  took  fright  and  flew  off 
down  the  lake.  A  caravan  on  the  move  makes  a 
great  noise,  and  apart  from  the  falling  stones  under 
the  men's  and  animals'  feet,  there  are  the  cries 
and  shouts  of  the  coolies,  without  which  the 
baggage   animals   seem    unable  to  travel. 

But  when  the  yaks,  goats,  sheep  and  ponies  were 
freed  from  their  burdens,  and  were  hungrily  grazing 


47 

on  this  lovely  and  unusual  grass,  I  crept  out  with 
my  303"  (as  my  gun  had  been  sent  back  to  Leh  with 
the  Ovis  ammon  and  Tibetan  gazelle's  heads)  to  try 
and  get  a  goose,  which  would  have  been  a  welcome 
change  to  our  scanty  larder ;  but  darkness  came  on, 
and  after  two  falls  through  what  seemed  firm  salt,  I 
retired  to  my  tent  to  repose  soundly,  as  we  were  only 
about  14,000  feet  above  the  sea  level,  where  one 
can  sleep  much  better  than  in  higher  altitudes. 


CHAPTER  V. 


<7^  >f    (T  ff    f^ 


^HE  next  few  days  were  spent  in  endless 
climbing  up  and  down,  crossing  three 
passes ;  on  one  we  met  a  caravan 
returning  to  Lhassa,  the  mules,  yaks,  sheep  and 
goats,  which  they  had  brought  from  there  laden 
with  cloth  and  brick  tea,  were  now  returning 
with  salt.  The  sheep  and  goats  looked  very 
quaint  with  their  saddlebags  full  of  salt,  each  load 
weighing  20  seers  =  about  40  lbs.  We  had  a  long 
talk  with  the  merchants,  who,  after  they  had  recovered 
from  their  amazement  at  finding  a  woman  alone, 
begged  me  to  go  and  spend  the  winter  at  Lhassa. 
They  said  I  should  be  well  taken  care  of,  and  all  the 
Tibetan  ladies  would  be  delighted  to  see  me,  and 
lend  me  clothes,  and  that  next  year  they  would  safely 
bring  me  back  to  Leh.     I  shall  always  regret  that  I 


49 
did  not  accept  their  offer,  but  at  the  time  I  thought 
it  would  be  unfair  to  go  off  for  another  year  without 
being  able  to  let  anyone  know  my  plans.  We  parted 
with  mutual  regret,  and  I  felt  sure  I  should  have 
met  with  nothing  but  courtesy  and  kindness  had 
I  trusted  myself  to  their  care.  I  persuaded  them 
to  sell  me  a  wonderful  teapot,  which,  being  huge  and 
a  fearful  weight,  was  sent  to  Leh.  At  Jongoe,  a 
lovely  camping  place  with  fresh  water  and  grass, 
we  met  a  travelling  Lama.  I  was  very  interested  to 
see  one  of  these  curious  men — they  have  no  home,  no 
monastery,  and  no  teaching  ;  they  just  wander 
aimlessly  all  their  lives.  This  one  took  no  interest 
in  us,  beyond  allowing  us  to  feed  him,  and  sharing 
our  fire,  otherwise  he  seemed  unaware  of  our  presence, 
and  when  our  camp  awoke  in  the  morning  he  had 
disappeared.  This  was  supposed  to  be  unlucky. 
I  could  not  join  in  the  lamentations,  and  was 
secretly  glad  that  the  half-witted-looking  creature 
had  wandered  away  with  his  filthy  rags  and 
depressing  face,  but  it  was  a  most  unlucky  day 
which  followed.  First  snow  and  rain  had  fallen  in 
the  night,  and  we  could  not  light  a  fire ;  this  meant 


50 

starting  at  dawn  on  a  long  march  shivering  with 
cold,  on  a  cup  of  half-frozen  goat's  milk  and  a  damp 
biscuit.  The  yaks  were  fearfully  trying,  constantly 
lying  down  and  delaying  the  march,  so  that  we 
arrived  at  the  ford  of  the  Indus  rather  late,  but  were 
obliged  to  cross,  as  there  was  no  place  on  that  bank 
flat  enough  for  a  camp.  The  ford  was  deeper  than  our 
guide  expected,  and  the  little  pony  he  was  riding  was 
swept  ofl'  his  feet,  and  both  had  to  swim  for  the 
opposite  shore.  I  crossed,  lying  flat  on  a  yak's  back, 
with  tall  Nibra  wading  to  his  shoulders  to  lead  him. 
I  was  glad  when  we  were  all  safely  over.  Everything 
was  soaking,  including  tents  and  bedding,  and  the 
animals  were  so  done,  and  being  late,  we  decided  to 
camp,  spending  a  most  miserable  night  sitting  by 
the  fire  trying  to  rest  without  sleeping.  All  these 
disasters  were  the  wretched  Lama's  fault  for  leaving 
us  without  a  blessing ! 

Next  day,  when  the  tents  and  clothes  were  dried, 
we  did  a  short  march  to  Maiya,  where  we  were  able 
to  hire  a  fresh  supply  of  ponies  and  yaks,  and  after  a 
terrible  waste  of  time  and  energy  a  bargain  was  con- 
cluded, and  I  was  the  proud  possessor  for  80  rupees 


51 

of  a  good  little  grey  pony,  to  whom  I  became  quite 
attached. 

At  last,  after  three  more  days'  marching,  we 
arrived  at  Shushul,  where  we  experienced  great 
difficulty  in  securing  fresh  ponies,  as  Dr.  Sven  Hedin 
had  just  left  on  his  wonderful  journey,  so  eloquently 
described  in  his  book  on  Tibet,  taking  with  him 
every  available  pony  and  man. 

The  ugly  little  gompa  (monastery)  is  in  the  middle 
of  the  tiny  village,  and  the  Lamas  were  most  polite  in 
showing  me  over  their  temple,  which  was  like  a  badly- 
arranged  cowshed,  with  a  frieze  of  brightly  painted 
pictures,  which  although  the  artists  had  never  dreamt 
of  perspective,  or  heard  of  tone,  yet  had  something 
vivid  and  real  about  them.  The  large  dolls  which 
are  always  seated  in  these  temples  were  dressed  in 
dreadful  rags,  and  the  little  brass  vessels  to  receive 
the  offerings  of  milk,  butter,  suttoo,  etc.,  looked  as  if 
they  were  never  cleaned ;  but  amongst  the  brass 
vessels  used  at  the  worship  and  ceremonies,  there  was 
one  wonderful  bowl  which  I  vainly  tried  to  buy,  but 
although  Shushul  is  eight  miles  from  the  frontier  of 
Chinese   Tibet,  the  Lamas,  with    many  regrets    and 

E  a 


52 

longing  looks  at  the  rupees  I  held  in  my  hand,  firmly 
refused  to  sell,  as  they  said  they  would  get  beaten 
and  punished  if  the  bowl  were  missing  when  the  Lama 
from  Lhassa  came  on  his  annual  tour  of  inspection 
and  examination  of  the  temple  treasures. 

After  Shushul,  there  were  some  uninterest- 
ing marches  till  we  reached  the  Pangong  Lake.  As 
long  as  we  could  hire  and  change  ponies  every  few 
days,  I  allowed  my  little  grey  to  travel  without  a  load 
or  a  rider,  so  that  he  might  be  fit  and  strong  later  on. 
The  pony  I  rode  on  leaving  Shushul  surprised  the 
whole  caravan  by  falling  twice  with  me  in  one  day ; 
these  miserable  little  narrow-chested  ponies  are,  as  a 
rule,  so  wonderfully  sure-footed.  When  we  settled 
down  in  camp  that  night,  it  was  discovered  the  poor 
little  wretch  was  quite  blind.  I  had  no  spaces  for 
more  bruises,  so  he  was  turned  into  a  pack  pony. 
Our  camp  was  close  to  the  Pangong  Lake,  but  we 
were  too  tired  to  do  the  two  or  three  miles  which 
would  have  brought  it  in  sight.  Starting  early  next 
morning  we  soon  came  to  the  lake,  and  I  did  not 
then  regret  the  delay  of  the  previous  night.  The 
wonderful  and  unexpected  sight  of  the  great  water 


/■ 


53 
lying  folded  in  the  mountains  with  the  deep  dreamy- 
shadows  still  hazy  and  untouched  by  the  rising  sun, 
was  a  sight  never  to  be  forgotten.  The  ever- changing 
views  were  so  beautiful  that  I  was  sorry  to  think 
that  it  took  so  few  days  to  march  the  45  miles  to 
the  end.  The  waters  are  a  hard,  rich  blue,  so  deep 
in  tone  that  I  quite  expected  it  to  be  coloured  in 
the  little  wooden  teacup  I  used  for  holding  my 
painting  water,  but  at  mid-day  the  reflections  of 
the  pale  sandstone  hills  turned  it  to  a  shimmering 
pink.  One  cannot  help  wondering  why  anything 
so  exquisite  could  not  have  been  fresh  water  full  of 
edible  fish,  with  cattle  grazing  on  its  shores  and 
the  sound  of  wild  fowl  to  break  the  oppressive 
stillness.  Instead  of  this,  the  water  is  salt,  in  many 
places  the  shores  are  unsafe  and  shake  and  wobble 
under  you,  making  short  cuts  impossible.  A  few 
miles  after  leaving  the  lake  we  turned  a  corner  and 
arrived  at  Phobrang,  a  most  refreshing  summer 
village  of  four  stone  huts,  with  fresh  running  water 
and  a  wonderful  view  of  the  snows. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


>HOBRANG  is  14,500  feet  above  the  sea 
level.  We  halted  for  two  days  making 
the  final  preparations  for  our  journey 
into  the  uninhabitated,  desolate  land  of  Northern 
Tibet.  We  started  at  last  with  a  much  diminished 
caravan,  consisting  of  ten  ponies,  four  yaks,  twelve 
sheep,  seven  milch  goats,  and  twenty -six  men. 
Ramjhan  preferred  to  face  the  unknown  perils  to 
remaining  in  this  deserted  land,  and  the  cook  said 
"  Women  and  children  must  have  hot  food,"  and 
therefore  he  and  the  frying  pan,  literally  hand  in 
hand,  will  accompany  us;  "  and  if  we  perish,"  he  added, 
"  it  will  at  least  be  better  for  the  Ladysaheb  to  have 
three  respectable  men  with  her,"  meaning  himself, 
Nibra  and  Ramjhan. 

The  inhabitants  of  Phobrang,  about  14,  including 
two   children,  accompanied  us  part  of  the   way  to 


55 
the  foot  of  the  Marsemik  Pass,  warning  us  to 
return  as  soon  as  possible.  They  said  we  ought  to  be 
returning  then,  not  starting,  as  the  snows  were  coming, 
and  even  they  would  shortly  be  going  down  to  the 
lower  valleys  for  the  winter ;  they,  however,  promised 
to  leave  one  man  at  least  in  charge  of  the  baggage  we 
had  stored  in  one  of  the  stone  huts;  so  after  drinking 
a  final  cup  of  tea  with  them,  we  started  with  their  good 
wishes  and  a  charm  consisting  of  a  little  round  box 
with  a  turquoise  button  containing  a  small  Buddha 
which  was  presented  to  me  at  the  last  moment  by 
the  Lumbader  of  the  village,  who  had  worn  it 
attached  by  a  dirty  piece  of  string  round  his  neck: 

The  Marsemik  Pass  is  18,500  feet  above  the  sea 
level,  a  long,  gradual  ascent,  but  with  the  last  four 
miles  very  difficult  going,  as  there  had  just  been  a 
landslip.  Indeed,  the  whole  country  looked  as  if 
earthquakes  and  landslips  were  trying  to  "see  which 
could  happen  most  frequently  and  look  the  worst, 
and  in  a  land  of  no  tracks  and  few  travellers  there 
is,  of  course,  no   one   to  tidy  up. 

We  only  marched  about  ten  miles  a  day  for  the 
next    few    days,    as    we    wanted    to    husband    the 


S6 

Strength  of  both  ponies  and  men.  This  is  an  awful, 
desolate  land,  filled  with  a  rushing,  tearing  wind,  like 
some  mad  living  thing  unable  to  rest  day  or  night, 
and  it  is  always  pain.  When  snowing,  it  whirls  and 
lashes  the  flakes  at  you  ;  when  fine,  it  raises  whirl- 
winds of  dust  and  sand  and  beats  them  into  your  eyes 
and  mouth.  A  loose  strand  of  hair  was  lashed  across 
my  face  so  violently  that  it  made  a  little  cut  on  my 
already  chapped  and  painful  cheeks.  After  that  I  did 
my  hair  in  the  Tibetan  fashion — a  series  of  tiny,  very 
tight  plaits  over  the  forehead,  not  allowing  a  single 
hair  to  escape ;  1  also  manufactured  out  of  an  old  pair 
of  gloves  a  sort  of  highwayman's  mask,  which  I  wore 
whenever  a  storm  came  on ;  but  nothing  that  I  can 
say  to  anyone  who  has  not  been  in  the  Changchenmo 
Highlands  can  convey  the  agony  of  that  wild  wind. 
Even  in  the  valleys  there  is  no  shelter  from  it,  nor 
apparently  in  the  sky,  where  great  masses  of  clouds 
were  generally  flying  and  churning  about,  and 
sometimes  at  sunset  the  sky  looked  like  a  gigantic 
fire  half  hidden  in  immense  volumes  of  smoke. 

The    coolies    have    great   endurance,   and    one 
wonders  if  it  is  intense  brutish  ignorance  or  the  fine 


57 

effect  of  their  death-ignoring  rehgion  which  makes 
them  march  so  fearlessly  and  pleasantly  into  the 
unknown. 

The  boy  in  charge  of  the  goats,  although  only 
about  ten  years  old,  was  marvellous.  Half-starved 
goats  and  sheep  are  very  tiresome  to  drive,  as  they 
will  suddenly  rush  long  distances  up  or  down  preci- 
pices in  pursuit  of  a  few  blades  of  grass,  so  that  the 
little  fellow,  rolled  in  his  sheepskins,  his  fur  cap 
crammed  over  his  dirty,  grinning  little  face,  after 
being  shown  the  direction  of  the  day's  march, 
had  to  start  before  the  rest  of  the  camp.  The 
quaint  calls  and  whistles  with  which  he  controlled 
his  refractory  flock  were  the  first  sounds  heard  in  the 
morning.  We  often  overtook  and  passed  him  about 
mid-day — he  then  had  to  use  all  his  strength  of  mind 
and  lungs  to  urge  his  wretched  flock  to  keep  us  in 
sight,  consequently  he  was  generally  last  in  camp. 
My  admiration  for  this  solitary,  dignified  child 
was  unbounded. 

We  marched  on  past  Pomlung  and  Pamzal, 
where  a  few  willows  were  growing  in  the  river  bed, 
and  it  was  amusing  to  see  how  all,  with  one  accord. 


58 

instantly  went  to  cut  themselves  a  stick.  When 
you  march  great  distances  without  any  chance 
of  getting  a  new  stick  they  become  most  precious 
possessions,  and  a  few  days  later  there  was  a  great 
quarrel  over  a  stick  between  two  coolies.  The 
Tibetans  and  Ladakis  never  use  their  fists,  but 
instantly  a  dispute  begins  they  throw  stones  at  each 
other;  for,  if  I  have  been  able  to  describe  the 
country  at  all,  you  will  have  realized  that,  although 
uninhabited,  almost  unexplored,  treeless  and  barren, 
still  there  are  stones — and  always  stones. 

We  wandered  on  for  some  days,  passing  over 
the  Lanak  La,  18,000  feet,  until  we  came  on  tracks  of 
kiang  and  yak.  In  the  Kashmir  countries  and  Western 
Tibet  the  shooting  of  yak  is,  of  course,  prohibited, 
as  His  Highness  is  a  good  Hindoo,  and  yak,  being 
a  sort  of  cattle,  are  held  sacred.  But  once  in  Chinese 
Tibet  I  vainly  tried  to  get  a  good  specimen. 

The  rifles  were  once  more  unpacked,  and  we 
began  tracking  a  solitary  bull,  which  Tundook  says  is 
a  very  big  one.  (I  have  noticed  that  the  animals  you 
never  get  a  chance  of  shooting,  or  the  ones  you  miss 
are  always  thought  by  the  trackers   to    be  records.) 


59 
We  stalked  him  on  and  over  and  round  every  hill-top 
in  the  country  for  long  days.  The  third  day,  whilst 
following  the  will-o'-the-wisp  tracks  of  the  yak,  we 
found  a  herd  of  Tibetan  antelope.  A  snowstorm 
came  on,  and  under  cover  of  it  we  managed  to  get 
well  up  to  them.  How  can  I  tell  the  wretchedness  of 
that  afternoon  !  It  is  always  difficult  to  climb  in 
these  high  altitudes,  because  you  become  breathless  so 
soon  ;  but  added  to  this  you  must  please  picture  me 
dressed  in  a  heavy  fur-lined  skirt,  a  huge  fur  coat  all 
sodden  with  snow  and  sleet,  afraid  to  lift  my  face  out 
of  the  protecting  flaps  of  my  fur  cap  because  of  the 
biting,  freezing  wind  and  blinding  snow,  my  hands  so 
numb  with  cold  that  I  could  hardly  feel  the 
trigger  of  my  rifle.  However,  the  chance  was  there, 
and  I  had  to  nerve  myself  to  lift  my  head  and  take 
aim.  I  was  amazed  at  what  I  saw,  the  whole  slope 
seemed  covered  with  antelope.  I  had  two  easy  shots 
and  managed  to  kill  two  good  ones,  17^  and  18^ 
inches.  Whilst  they  were  being  skinned,  complete 
darkness  came  on,  and  very  heavy  snow,  so  we  all 
sheltered  huddled  together  under  a  rock.  As  we  have 
no  idea  in  the  morning  where  we  are  going  to  camp  at 


6o 

night,  the  caravan  had  orders  to  follow  us  every  day,  and 
two  coolies  were  told  off  to  keep  between  us  and  the 
caravan  so  that  we  should  not  lose  each  other ;  but 
having  wandered  up  and  down  so  many  hill-tops  that 
day  in  the  thick  snow,  we  were  lost  for  some  hours, 
but  at  last,  when  our  miseries,  hunger  being  not  the 
least  of  them,  were  almost  unbearable,  the  advance 
coolies  found  us,  and  after  many  mistakes  and  delays, 
we  found  our  camp.  Sabana,  the  cook,  had  managed 
to  make  enough  fire  to  warm  me  some  soup,  and 
after  taking  off  my  most  sodden  garments  I  crept  into 
bed  about  6  p.m.  But  alas,  Ramjhan,  his  poor 
hands  numb  even  in  their  fur  gloves,  dropped  the  cup 
of  priceless  hot  soup  just  between  the  flap  of  the 
tent  door  and  my  eagerly  outstretched  hands.  His 
dismay  and  horror  were  almost  comic  enough  to  make 
up  for  the  calamity ;  unfortunately  the  soup  was 
irreplaceable,  as  the  tiny  fire  had  gone  out,  so  he 
brought  me  as  a  poor  substitute  some  cold  venison 
and  still  colder  goat's  milk. 

The  next  two  days,  the  snow  having  obliterated 
all  tracks  of  everything,  we  marched  with  the  caravan 
and  saw  neither  bird  nor  beast,  nor  track  of  any  sort. 


6i 

After  the  storm  was  over  the  snow  soon  disappeared, 
but  we  had  constant  hail  and  sleet  till  we  came  to 
Tobomorpa,  and  then,  after  a  day  of  brilliant  and 
blazing  sunshine,  we  reached  Tooloomerbo  (the  green 
river),  where  we  dried  our  hair ;  the  coolies'  pigtails 
and  long,  straggling,  dirty  locks  were  shaken  out  to  dry, 
whilst,  fascinated,  they  watched  me  in  the  exciting 
pantomime  of  brush  and  comb.  Besides  our  hair,  we 
were  able  to  dry  our  sodden  clothes,  furs  and  gloves. 
The  air  was  fine  and  very  cold,  but  the  relief  of  the 
warm  day  and  dry  clothes  gave  us  all  a  refreshing 
sleep. 

Next  day,  a  long  march  brought  us  to  another 
pass,  and  I  was  furiously  angry  with  the  guide  when 
he  told  me  it  was  the  Lungnak  La,  when  I  saw  by 
the  compass  we  had  been  steadily  going  East  ever 
since  we  had  left  the  Lanak  La  days  before.  I 
must  explain  that  the  only  map  I  had  with  me 
ended  at  the  Pangong  Lake,  and  that  I  was  indeed 
travelling  in  the  unknown.  The  guide  was  very 
apologetic  and  seemed  ashamed  of  himself,  but  per- 
sisted that  this  new  pass  was  the  Lungnak  La. 
Suddenly  a  sweet  smile  spread   over  his  face,  as  he 


62 

grasped  the  reason  of  my  anger  ;  he  then  pronounced 
the  two  similar  names  one  after  another,  Lanak  La 
was  pronounced  Lunuk  La,  and  the  Lungnak  La 
was  pronounced  Lunuk  La  with  a  sort  of  swallow 
instead  of  a  '  g '  in  the  middle.  He  seemed  to  think 
it  very  strange  that  I  did  not  hear  how  totally 
different  they  were !  The  other  side  of  the  pass 
brought  us  to  the  border  of  the  antelope  plain. 

The  eJfFect  of  this  endless,  stony,  featureless  plain 
with  its  tiny  glaciers  and  its  fringe  of  sugar-loaf  snow 
hills  was  most  curious  and  desolate — I  could  not 
imagine  anything  more  lonely.  The  African  and 
Somali  deserts  have  their  scrub  and  oases  and  even 
their  rows  of  bleaching  bones,  but  here  there  was 
nothing.  We  marched  down  one  of  the  valleys  on 
the  cast  of  the  plateau,  and  by  degrees  came  to  less 
precipitous  country  with  some  grazing,  where  we  met 
some  armed  nomads.  They  appeared  pleased  to  see 
us,  but  their  pleasure  could  have  been  nothing  to 
mine,  for  we  were  beginning  to  think  we  should  never 
see  any  living  thing  again.  I  was  hesitatingly  asked 
if  I  would  object  to  showing  them  the  curious  and 
miraculous  needles  which  fastened   my  hair.      They 


63 

were  most  interested,  and  gratefully  accepted  far  more 
than  I  could  spare,  but  after  this  exhibition  they 
could  no  longer  doubt  my  being  a  woman. 

They  were  very  anxious  we  should  go  with  them  to 
the  lower  valleys  and  march  from  there  to  either  Pekin 
or  Lhassa,  as  they  assured  us  we  would  be  in  very  great 
danger  if  we  tried  to  get  back  over  the  Marsemik  La, 
as  unusually  bad  storms  were  about.  They  also  pro- 
mised me  plenty  of  yak  shooting  if  I  went  with  them. 
Unfortunately,  they  managed  to  thoroughly  frighten 
the  men,  and  we  were  obliged  to  decide  to  turn  back 
at  once.  The  few  days  we  had  spent  with  the 
shepherds  had  been  days  of  almost  luxury,  owing  to 
our  being  able  to  have  quite  large  fires,  big  enough  to 
even  heat  water  for  washing. 

Earlier  in  the  year  a  herd  of  yak  must  have  been 
grazing  in  this  valley,  so  the  coolies  were  able  to 
collect  fuel — travellers  in  Tibet  being  dependent  on 
the  droppings  of  wild  animals  for  their  fuel.  The 
coolies  looked  upon  me  as  rushing  recklessly  into  the 
jaws  of  death  each  time  I  had  washing  water  sent  to 
my  tent,  as  cleansing  oneself  is  quite  unknown  and 
unthought  of  amongst  them.   They  have  a  curious  and 


64 

wonderful  way  of  dressing — whenever  they  have  a  new 
garment  (all  their  clothes  are  the  same  shape  and 
size)  they  wear  it  over  the  old  ones  until  they  drop 
off  in  rags,  but  they  never  think  of  removing  one 
garment  when  they  put  a  new  one  over  it. 

On  our  way  back  over  the  Lungnak  Pass  we 
came  on  fresh  tracks  of  yak,  and  so  began  another 
long  stalk  of  two  days,  which  again  ended  in  failure, 
and  I  never  even  saw  the  bull  I  had  stalked  so 
carefully. 

Near  Tobomorpa  we  pitched  our  camp.  Heavy 
snow  came  on,  and  here  began  the  worst  part 
of  our  journey,  as  in  that  one  dreadful  night 
we  lost  five  sheep,  two  goats,  and  two  ponies, 
all  frozen  by  the  cold.  The  next  day  was  so  dark 
that  we  were  obliged  to  stay  where  we  were,  huddled 
together,  wet,  cold  and  helpless.  The  loneliness 
and  misery  might  have  been  easier  to  bear  if 
I  had  had  an  English-speaking  companion  or  a 
book,  but  all  luxuries  had  been  abandoned  long 
before,  and  even  if  I  had  possessed  a  book  it  would 
have  been  too  dark  to  read  it,  my  last  candle-end 
having  been  burnt  more  than  a  month  before.     The 


65 
days  in  Tibet  are  far  more  lonelj  than  any  night  in 
England  and  the  nights  in  Tibet  are  indescribable;  in 
the  crisp  freezing  air,  the  great  peaks  look  like 
sleeping  giants  sharply  outlined  against  a  blue-black 
sky,  and  there  is  no  sound  at  all  to  break  the  almost 
overpowering  grandeur  of  the  great  silence  and 
solitude. 

The  following  night  my  tent  fell  down  with  a 
crash  under  the  weight  of  snow,  fortunately  only 
hurting  my  arm,  but  I  must  have  been  a  pitiful 
object,  trembling  with  cold,  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  waiting  for  the  snow  to  be  shaken  off  my  tent 
so  that  it  could  be  erected  again.  This  having 
been  accomplished,  I  was  just  dosing  when  Ramjhan 
crept  out  from  amongst  the  men  and  said  he  wished 
to  spend  the  rest  of  the  night  in  my  tent.  I  begged 
him  to  return  to  the  others,  as  he  would  be  warmer 
huddled  up  with  them  in  their  hole  under  the  snow, 
but  with  tears  turning  to  icicles  on  his  cheeks  and 
beard,  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to  remain.  After 
questioning  him  I  found  the  coolies  thought  we 
were  in  a  bad  way,  and  that  some  had  given  up 
all     hope     of    ever    getting    back,    and    no    doubt. 


66 

enjoying  the  terror  they  created,  had  explained  with 
gruesome  details  that  if  a  relief  party  was  organised 
to  search  for  us  they  could  not  even  start  till  the 
following  May  or  June.  I  put  Ramjhan's  reason  for 
wishing  to  remain  in  my  tent  in  his  own  words — 
"  When  they  come  for  us  after  many  moons  they  will 
find  me  sitting  frozen  dead  by  my  lady,  and  they  will 
say :  '  He  was  a  good  and  faithful  servant,' — I  shall 
receive  much  honour  from  the  Saheblog." 

I  realized  that  this  was  not  the  time  to  indulge 
in  sentiment,  and  managed  to  get  up  a  fairly  hearty 
laugh;  at  last,  with  some  coaxing  and  kindly  abuse, 
he  went  back  to  the  others. 

Soon  after,  most  terrifying  groans  and  screams 
disturbed  me,  and  Nibra  came  to  say  that  one  of 
the  coolies  was  dying  and  I  must  give  him  medicine 
at  once.  It  was  some  time  before  my  fur-gloved, 
half- frozen  fingers  could  unpack  anything,  and 
the  first  bottle  I  found  was  an  extra  strong 
mixture  the  dentist  had  given  me  to  rub  on  ex- 
ternally in  case  I  should  suffer  from  toothache.  I 
had  been  warned  by  other  travellers  of  the  terrific 
pain  the  intense  cold  causes  to  any  tooth  stopped 


67 

with  gold  or  metal.  "  Poison "  was  labelled  all  over 
the  bottle.  The  man's  cries  were  awful  and,  in  despair, 
I  sent  Nibra  back  with  instructions  to  apply  the  lotion 
to  the  most  painful  part.  He  returned  later  and  said 
the  man  was  much  better,  pointing  out  he  had  saved 
a  little  of  the  precious  stuff  in  case  anyone  else 
got  ill,  as  undoubtedly  it  was  a  magnificent  cure, 
but  that  the  greedy  man  had  drunk  nearly  all  before 
he  could  stop  him ! 

I  snatched  the  bottle  from  Nibra  and  found  it 
nearly  empty.  Regardless  of  everything,  and  feeling 
like  a  murderess,  I  rushed  to  the  coolies'  little  camp 
and  there  found  the  man  unconscious,  but  breathing. 
I  sat  by  his  side  half  stunned  with  cold  and  fright, 
expecting  him  to  die  in  agony  at  any  moment.  After 
what  seemed  to  me  like  weeks,  but  I  suppose  was 
barely  an  hour,  he  opened  his  eyes,  smiled,  and  went 
to  sleep.  In  the  morning  he  was  well !  But  for 
several  days  I  suffered  torments,  expecting  him  to  drop 
down  dead  at  my  feet  and  make  me  guilty  of  murder. 
Instead,  can  you  imagine  the  relief  at  finding 
myself  adored  by  the  wretched  man  whose  life  had 
undoubtedly   been  saved   by  the   poison?     For  the 


F    2 


68 

rest  of  the  journey  he  was  most  devoted,  and  used 
to  watch  me  like  an  affectionate  retriever  dog.  If 
he  had  only  known !  I  had  the  remains  of  the 
mixture  analysed  when  I  got  back  to  Bombay  and 
found  the  coolie  had  drunk  enough  to  kill  three 
men,  so  that  the  age  of  miracles  is  not  past ! 


Plate  XX. 


TUNDOOK    II    AND    GOATHERD. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


*T  Lanak  we  began  to  suffer  from  want 
of  food — our  sheep  were  all  eaten,  we 
had  no  venison,  as  I  had  not  been 
able  to  shoot  during  the  snowstorms,  and  the 
two  remaining  goats  were  too  precious  to  kill  as 
they  still  gave  a  little  milk.  One  night,  five  of 
the  coolies  disappeared,  taking  most  of  our  supplies. 
The  future  began  to  look  hopeless !  Fortunately 
their  courage  failed  them,  for  they  returned  the 
night  of  the  following  day,  very  shamefaced,  and 
with  a  much  diminished  supply  of  the  stolen 
suttoo.  Although  a  fine  morning,  our  start  from 
Lanak  was  delayed,  as  two  baggage  yaks  and 
a  pony  were  missing.  Cold  and  hunger  in  the 
early  morning  do  not  tend  to  improve  the  temper, 
and  I  was  really  angry  when  I  sent  for  Tundook.  I 
asked  him  why  the  ponies  and  yaks  were  not  ready 


when  he  had  distinctly  told  me  the  night  before  that 
they  were  all  safely  tied  up.  ■ 

"  That  is  true  ! " 

"  Why  did  you  tell  me  they  were  ready  last 
night  ? " 

"  I  thought,  Oh !  Protector  of  the  Poor,  it  was 
better  you  should  enter  your  tent  and  rest." 

"  But  were  the  ponies  tied  up  last  night  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  had  told  a  man  (pointing  to  his 
ten  year  old  son)  to  fetch  them." 

"  Then  they  were  not  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  merciful  one,  all  men  of  this  country  are 
liars,  excepting  me — they  were  not  there." 

This  so  delayed  the  start  that  Nibra  arranged 
a  short  march,  taking  two  of  the  deserting  coolies 
to  guide  us  to  the  spot  where  they  said  they  had 
seen  antelope  the  day  before ;  after  a  steep  climb 
we  saw  two  buck,  grazing  on  what  looked  like 
gigantic  and  badly-shaped  sponges,  but  which, 
when  we  came  nearer,  we  found  to  be  patches  of 
yellow-brown  moss.  I  had  a  long  shot  at  one 
and  killed  him,  but  was  not  quick  enough  to  even 
get  a  shot  at  the  other,  who    disappeared    at    once. 


71 

I  was  very  disappointed  to  find  that  the  hoins 
only  measured  19^  inches,  as  he  was  a  fine 
specimen.  We  tooj^  him  back  to  camp,  and  at  sight 
of  plenty  of  meat  the  scowls  quickly  faded  from 
the  usually  good-natured  faces  of  the  coolies. 

When  all  the  camp  was  feasting,  I  longed  for 
a  meal  for  my  poor  little  grey  pony,  who  had  become 
a  bag  of  bones  in  spite  of  extra  feeds  surreptitiously 
given;  in  fact,  the  baggage  animals  were  all  starving, 
and  I  could  not  bear  to  look  at  them. 

Next  day,  while  on  the  march,  we  saw  some 
antelopes,  and  I  had  a  very  long  stalk  after  them, 
ending  in  a  great  climb.  Just  as  we  were  nearing  the 
peak,  a  hailstorm  came  on,  the  wind  and  hail  being 
so  fierce  and  painful  that  we  were  obliged  to  lie  down 
under  a  ledge  for  shelter  till  the  worst  of  the  fury 
was  over.  Wet  and  stifi'  with  cold,  we  crawled 
to  the  top,  but  they  had  vanished  !  It  was 
there  and  at  that  moment  that  I  made  up  my 
mind  if  I  ever  managed  to  get  back  to  England, 
I  would  never  go  near  Tibet  again! 

When  at  last  we  found  the  caravan  I  vainly 
tried  to  mount  a  pony,  but  my  right  foot  would  not 


72 

move.  When  I  explained  this  to  Nibra  and  Sabana, 
they  rushed  at  me,  and  without  a  word  of  explana- 
tion, tore  off  my  fur  boot  and  four  stockings,  and 
began  rubbing  my  foot  with  snow ;  for  a  long  time 
I  felt  nothing,  but  afterwards  the  agonizing  tingling 
and  burning  seemed  ridiculously  and  needlessly  pain- 
ful. They  explained  that  it  was  shght  frostbite.  If 
that  was  slight,  I  trembled  to  think  what  the  real 
thing  must  be.  My  foot  was  very  painful  for  about 
a  fortnight,  especially  in  the  hot  mid-day  sun. 

At  Lanak  we  struck  our  old  route,  and,  pushing 
on  as  fast  as  we  could  with  our  weakened  men  and 
ponies,  reached  Kyam  with  its  welcome  fresh  water 
and  grazing.  As  the  poor  goats  could  give  no  more 
milk,  one  was  killed  and  eaten.  Our  little  shepherd 
had  great  difficulty  in  leading  and  dragging  the  lonely 
survivor  of  his  flock  to  the  Pangong  nullah,  where,  as 
I  had  not  been  able  to  shoot  anything  for  some  days, 
it  also  found  a  resting  place  in  the  cooking  pot. 

The  relief  from  the  intense  cold  and  fearful  wind 
in  this  valley  was  plain  to  read  on  all  our  faces  ;  and 
the  joy  of  lying  stretched  out  in  your  valise  bed 
cannot  be  realized  until  you  have  been  so  cold  for 


73 

weeks  that  the  only  way  to  dose  (one  cannot 
call  it  sleep)  is  to  lie  as  nearly  as  you  can  in  a 
ball.  Down  in  this  sheltered  river  bed,  we  were 
still  higher  than  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc.  All 
were  anxious  to  get  safely  over  the  Marsemik  La, 
as  our  food  was  running  short ;  but  as  the  Phobrang 
coolies  assured  us  they  knew  the  valley  well,  and 
could  lead  us  to  the  exact  spot  where  burhel  were 
always  to  be  found,  we  decided  to  risk  another 
two  days  and  try  for  them. 

Next  day  we  left  at  dawn,  and  after  a  three  hours' 
climb  came  to  the  sheltered  maidan  they  had  pointed 
out,  but  there  were  no  burhel.  Further  on  we  found 
some  fresh  foot  tracks  in  the  snow,  and  after  a  weary 
climb  came  suddenly  in  sight  of  seven  rams  lying  on 
the  snow  in  the  sunshine — I  have  marked  the  spot  on 
the  picture  with  a  cross.  The  position  of  my  tent  will 
explain  one  of  the  most  trying  parts  of  shooting  in 
this  country,  namely,  that  nearly  always  before  begin- 
ning to  climb  you  have  a  steep  descent  in  order  to 
get  on  to  the  next  mountain,  which  of  course  adds  to 
the  climb  on  the  other  side.  We  managed  to  stalk 
round  a  point  and  came  fairly  near  the  burhel  with  a 


74 
deep  but  narrow  ravine  dividing  us.  Although  they 
did  not  see  us  they  became  restless  and  began 
wandering  about,  I  had  a  good  look  through  the 
field  glasses  and  picked  out  two  close  together. 
Nibra  loaded  my  rifles  and  I  managed  to  shoot 
both,  but  I  am  ashamed  to  say  I  used  four  bullets. 
We  had  to  go  down  a  precipice  to  get  on  to  their 
part  of  the  mountain,  and  although  we  could  see  them 
quite  close  to  us,  lying  in  the  snow,  it  was  over  an 
hour  before  we  could  get  them ;  they  measured 
24  and  24^  inches.  The  glare  on  the  snow  was 
torture  to  the  eyes.  In  spite  of  a  very  hot  sun,  the 
water  in  the  water  bottle  was  thick  ice,  but  we 
managed  to  make  a  fire  and  heat  some  tea,  and  I 
enjoyed  the  warmth  and  sunshine  until  my  foot 
became  almost  unbearably  painful,  and  I  shall  never 
forget  the  horror  of  that  endless  hobble  back  to  camp. 
On  the  following  day  I  could  not  walk  at  all,  and 
in  order  that  I  should  ride  all  day,  we  had  to  sacrifice 
some  of  our  kit,  which  was  already  almost  nil.  We 
wore  every  garment  we  possessed  one  on  top  of  the 
other  Ladaki-wise;  our  stores  were  exhausted,  and 
we   had    nothing    but    our    blankets,   cooking    pots, 


Pi,ATi;  XXII. 


CROSSING  THE  MARSEMIK   LA. 


75 
trophies,  rifles,  and  two  tents,  so  we  regretfully 
abandoned  my  tent,  which  was  slightly  bigger  and 
therefore  heavier  than  the  shikari's,  and  so  at  last, 
weary  and  almost  worn  out,  we  came  to  the 
Marsemik  La,  and  camped  near  the  top  on  very 
thick   snow. 

Next  day  we  spent  1 1  hours  doing  13  miles  ! 
Two  poor  pack  animals  succumbed  on  the  pass,  and 
whilst  their  loads  were  being  readjusted  I  did  this 
picture;  Sabana  and  Tundook  in  front,  Ramjhan 
with  the  red  mufller  on  his  head,  and  my  little  grey 
pony  looking  very  wretched  under  his  sheepskin  and 
saddle,  and  more  like  a  greyhound  than  a  pony. 

Great  weariness,  chilblains,  chapped  faces,  and 
lips  so  sore  that  we  had  not  dared  to  taste  salt  for  a 
long  time,  as  it  made  them  smart  so  dreadfully,  were 
all  miseries  we  were  well  accustomed  to ;  but  the  pain 
in  our  eyes  in  consequence  of  the  last  few  days  of 
dazzling  sunshine  on  the  snow  was  a  new  trial  and 
almost  seemed  the  last  straw.  But  in  the  determina- 
tion to  get  to  Phobrang  and  safety,  all  else  was 
forgotten.  The  last  ten  miles  is  an  easy  descent, 
but  to    us   in    our   exhausted    condition,  it  seemed 


76 

endless  and  impossible.  At  last  we  arrived,  and  were 
all  much  refreshed  by  some  boiling  tea  provided  for 
us  by  the  two  men  who  had  remained  at  Phobrang 
in  charge  of  our  kit,  who,  when  they  saw  "  the  way 
we  walked,"  instead  of  coming  to  meet  us  "hastily 
made  hot  the  tea." 

Next  morning,  after  a  long  delicious  sleep,  I 
awoke  to  find  glorious  sunshine,  and  my  aching  eyes 
rested  gratefully  on  the  green  patches  which  follow 
the  winding  banks  of  Phobrang's  little  stream.  The 
surrounding  mountains  were  now  snow-topped,  and  the 
stream  frozen  in  several  places.  I  was  amazed  to  see 
two  fish  surprisingly  like  trout  dart  under  some 
stones.  I  called  Nibra,  and  as  we  were  turning  sadly 
and  hungrily  away,  Tundook  came  up  and  said  rods 
were  not  necessary,  "  any  fool  could  grasp  them." 
One  of  the  coolies  was  sent  into  the  icy  water,  and 
stooping  over  some  large  stones,  soon  tickled  seven 
beautiful  trout.  Sabana  lighted  a  fire  on  the  bank, 
and  with  some  of  the  new  mutton  fat  and  flour  we 
had  bought  from  the  two  Phobrang  coolies,  prepared 
the  most  delicious  meal  I  have  ever  eaten.  The  trout 
not  only  looked,  but  tasted  as  good  as  any  that  ever 


Plate  XXII I. 


SNOW  TROUT. 
14,500  feet  above  sea  level.) 


came  out   of  English   or  Scotch  rivers.     My  menu 
had  been  for  the  last  14  days  : — 

BREAKFAST. 
Frozen  milk,  cold  venison  or  cold  mutton. 

LUNCH. 

Chinese  brick  tea,  cold  mutton  or  venison, 

with  one  onion. 

DINNER. 
Clear  mutton  soup  (with  nothing  in  it). 
Hot  venison,  or  mutton,  with  two  onions. 

So  that  perhaps  you  can  realize  how  exquisite  the 
freshly  caught  and  fried  trout  tasted  eaten  with  some 
chappattis,  the  first  bread  I  had  seen  for  a  long  time. 
After  a  day's  rest  we  marched  to  Tankse,  passing 
the  end  of  the  Pangong  Lake,  where  we  met  Professor 
Eric  Zugmayer  on  his  return  from  Kashgar  and 
Yarkand.  Even  the  coolies  must  have  been  amused 
to  watch  two  complete  strangers  rush  up  to  each  other 
and  joyously  and  repeatedly  shake  hands.  Our 
excitement  and  delight  were  mutual,  as  neither  of  us 
had  seen  a  white  face  or  heard  a  word  of  any  European 
language  for  so  long.  We  marched  ten  miles  together 
to  Tseyaroo-tso,  an  absurdly  small  lake,  bright  blue 
and  absolutely  round ;  here  we  reluctantly  parted,  as 
the  Professor  still  had  some  observations  to  make. 


78 

We  camped  at  Tankse,  an  inhabited  ruin  in  a 
ruined  land  ;  the  gompa  (monastery)  was  the  most 
untidy  building  imaginable.  It  looked  as  if  an 
enormous  quantity  of  stones  had  been  brought  to 
build  it,  and  only  half  the  small  ones  had  been  used, 
the  others  being  left  throughout  the  ages  lying  in 
untidy  heaps.  We  were  able  to  hire  fresh  ponies,  and 
next  day  our  march  was  all  down-hill  and  ended  in  a 
tiny  village  with  some  stunted  but  carefully  irrigated 
willows  and  poplars.  I  never  imagined  anything 
would  make  me  feel  as  those  miserable  apologies  for 
trees  did.  All  at  once  the  memory  of  the  horrors 
and  dangers  we  had  endured  seemed  to  crowd  over 
me,  and  I  was  amazed  to  feel  the  tears  in  my  eyes 
as  I  looked  at  those  wretched  examples  of  the  trees 
and  woods  I  love  so  well. 

Having  spent  a  long  day  coming  down- 
hill, it  seemed  preposterous  that  we  should 
have  another  pass  to  negotiate  before  we  reached 
Leh.  The  Chang  La  is  a  stiff  pass,  and  we 
found  it  in  a  dangerous  state  owing  to  the  recent 
heavy  snow-fall.  Half-way  up,  crossing  from 
one  ridge   to    another,    we    passed    over    a    col    of 


■%a:^.^^ 


79 

the  mountain  where  the  ground  was  finely  sanded 
just  like  the  floor  of  a  canary's  cage !  We 
camped  near  a  small  lake  at  the  foot  of  the  glacier. 
There  was  not  much  sleep  for  any  of  us  that  night, 
the  air  being  indescribably  fine  and  intensely  cold. 
Starting  before  dawn,  we  had  three  hours'  struggle 
in  an  icy  wind,  helping  the  baggage  ponies  to  slip  and 
slide  and  plough  their  way  through  the  soft  snow 
lying  on  the  glacier.  We  finally  reached  the  summit, 
18,300  feet  above  the  sea  level,  and  stood  beside  the 
chorten,  a  heap  of  stones  crowned  with  horns  and 
some  dirty  rags  tied  to  a  few  stunted  twigs,  which 
marked  the  top  of  the  pass.  Looking  down 
thousands  of  feet  into  the  valley  below,  and  across 
the  sky  to  the  straight  line  of  snow-topped  mountains 
facing  us,  the  miracle  of  the  birth  of  a  new  day  was 
slowly  unfolded  to  our  view.  We  seemed  to  stand  in 
an  icy  shadow,  as  the  sun  touched  one  peak  after 
another  with  rosy  light,  turning  all  the  world  to  pink 
and  gold.  I  do  not  know  if  it  was  the  great  wonder 
and  glory  of  that  marvellous  scene  or  that  the  tragic 
end  of  the  last  of  the  milch  goats  had  deprived  me 
of  my  customary  cup  of  milk    before   starting   that 


8o 

made  me  faint,  and  losing  consciousness  I  thought  1 
was  slipping  feet  foremost  miles  into  the  purple 
shadows  below.  It  was  a  long  time  before  the 
frantic  efforts  of  Nibra  and  Sabana,  rubbing  my 
head  and  hands  vigorously  with  snow  combined 
with  some  brandy  that  Ramjhan  had  carried  in  a 
flask  since  the  day  we  left  Leh,  brought  my 
thoughts  back  to  the  top  of  the  pass.  It  is  a 
strange  fact  that  although  I  often  had  to  face 
the  thought  of  death  and  danger,  the  possibility 
of  illness  had  never  crossed  my  mind !  After  break- 
fast, half-way  down  the  pass,  out  of  the  shadow 
and  icy  air  of  the  glacier,  I  revived,  and  as  we  were 
now  in  an  inhabited  land,  we  were  able  to  hire  fresh 
ponies,  and  the  rest  of  our  marches  passed  unevent- 
fully through  irrigated  valleys  to  Sakti,  near  the 
Miug  Nullah,  where  we  hoped  to  get  ibex,  but  the 
local  men  reported  nothing  worth  trying  to  shoot,  so 
passing  the  great  Himis  Monastery  with  its  800 
monks,  we  camped  at  Tikzai.  A  Lama  riding  in 
haste  and  in  some  state,  passed  us  at  the  turn  to  the 
Himis  Monastery.  We  had  a  long  conversation  and 
after  exchanging  some   suttoo  and   tea   I    persuaded 


8i 

him  to  sell  me  his  bridle  and  martingale,  a  fantastic 
leather  affair  set  with  sweet-toned  bells. 

The  Tikzai  Monastery  looked  so  picturesque  in 
the  rising  sun  that,  as  it  was  on  our  line  of  march,  we 
halted  an  hour  to  see  it.  It  was  a  long  ride,  the 
last  part  being  up  endless  uneven  steps  roughly  hewn 
in  the  sandstone.  In  the  forecourt  some  of  the  frescoes 
were  quite  Chinese  and  the  painted  wooden  altar  in 
the  great  court  was  a  wonderful  blaze  of  colour. 

The  Lamas  were  very  polite  and  showed  me  the 
Great  Lama's  throne  with  immense  pride.  In  this, 
as  in  all  the  gompa  temples,  the  sacred  flower  of  the 
lotus  was  prominent  everywhere,  either  painted  or 
carved  on  ceilings,  walls,  idols,  and  even  engraved  on 
the  brass  vessels  used  at  the  ceremonies.  The 
quaint  hand-written  manuscripts  with  their  wooden 
bindings  filled  a  large  room.  The  smell  of  the 
universal  filth  of  Tibet  was  very  present  in  all  the 
monasteries,  the  heightening  touch  being  given  to 
the  dead  smells  by  the  living  odour  of  the  burning 
rancid  butter  which  is  used  instead  of  oil  in  the 
little  lamps  burning  before  the  altars. 

There   were   two    really   beautiful   conch   shells 


82 

which  I  tried  hard  to  purchase,  but  the  Lamas  were 
firm  and  refused  to  sell  at  any  price.  I  was  glad  that 
I  had  been  able  to  buy  one  from  the  travelling  Lama 
we  met  near  Himis  gompa.  Mine  (Plate  VIII)  was 
very  inferior  to  these,  which  were  very  large  and 
beautifully  inlaid,  the  flag-shaped  flaps  of  leather  for 
covering  the  musician's  hand  were  studded  with  large 
and  good  turquoise  nails. 

Presently,  one  of  the  enormous  temple  teapots 
was  brought  in,  some  of  the  Lamas  stood  round 
whilst  the  head  Lama  and  his  Chaplain,  or  A.D.C.,  or 
Secretary,  and  I  had  tea  together.  They  sat  on  the 
floor  and  I  on  a  little  painted  stool,  which  turned  out 
to  be  an  altar !  Later  I  apologised  for  my  ignorance, 
and  amidst  great  laughing  and  joking  I  was  allowed 
to  buy  the  desecrated  little  altar,  which  also  figures 
on  Plate  VIII. 

With  much  bowing  and  handshaking  we  left 
the  monastery,  descended  into  the  valley  and  rode 
through  tiny  villages  alive  with  the  sound  of  singing. 
The  corn  was  all  cut  and  everywhere  women  and 
children  were  standing  watching  the  oxen,  yaks, 
ponies   and   donkeys,   promiscuously   harnessed    re- 


83 

gardless  of  size  or  breed,  treading  out  the  corn,  their 
endless  turning  being  done  to  the  monotonous 
chanting  of  a  Lama. 

Most  Lamas  have  either  some  business  or 
farming  interests,  so  no  doubt  some  of  them 
were  singing  to  their  own  animals  and  blessing  their 
own  corn,  as  no  corn  can  be  threshed  without  a 
Lama  to  chant  the  blessings  and  praises  of  Buddha, 
"the  Lord  and  Giver  of  all."  All  Lamas  must 
therefore  sing  and  chant,  although  to  some  the  gift 
of  an  ear  for  music  has  been  mysteriously  withheld. 
After  the  great  silence  of  the  land  we  had  left,  even 
their  discordant  notes  were  welcome,  for  it  spoke  of 
safety  and  plenty  and  the  life  we  had  sometimes 
given  up  hope  of  finding  again. 

Without  a  gun  the  sight  of  the  large  flocks  of 
pigeons  which  we  were  constantly  meeting  was  most 
tantalizing.  There  were  also  countless  magpies,  often 
seven  or  eight  together,  and  the  old  rhyme,  with  its 

"  safe  back  again,"  fitted  in  well  with  our  sentiments : 

One  for  sorrow, 
Two  for  mirth  ; 
Three  for  a  wedding, 
Four  for  a  birth ; 
Five  for  old  England, 
Six  for  Spain, 
Seven  for  old  Ireland, 
Eight  safe  back  again. 


84 

and  so  after  many  adventures  I  once  more  rode 
down  the  steps  into  Leh,  feeling  no  longer  a  stranger, 
but  as  an  old  friend   returned. 

I  was  the  only  European  in  Leh,  and  the  Wazir 
called  to  tell  me  he  had  arranged  a  polo  match 
and  devil  dance  for  the  following  day.  After  a 
luxurious  bath,  and  dressed  in  an  entirely  new  outfit 
chosen  from  the  kit  we  had  recovered  from  the 
telegraph  office,  I  felt  quite  respectable-looking 
again,  until  I  saw  myself  in  the  hand  glass  which  had 
been  left  in  Leh  by  Nibra  as  an  unnecessary  luxury, 
but  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  horrible  sight. 
My  face  was  a  deep  and  brilliant  red,  green 
tinting  the  whites  of  the  eyes  !  My  lips  and 
cheeks  were  all  cracked  and  chapped,  as  well  as 
sore  and  tender,  and  looked  as  awful  as  they  felt. 

The  polo  match  next  day  was  most  interesting. 
Ladak  claims  to  be  the  original  home  of  polo,  and 
almost  every  little  village  has  its  polo  ground — a  flat, 
sandy  place  with  the  stones  cleared  and  stacked  in  a 
neat  line  which  forms  the  boundary. 

The  polo  ground  of  Leh  is  the  high  street 
depicted  on  Plate  VIL 


85 

Q-uite  early  the  crowd  began  to  collect  and  sit  in 
the  unglazed  windows. 

I  was  taken  up  to  a  gaily  decorated  verandah, 
the  street  was  cleared,  and  a  ragged  army  of  polo 
players  rode  up,  thirteen  on  one  side  and  eleven  on 
the  other.  They  all  wore  sheepskins  and  long 
woollen  cloaks,  and  rode  in  high-peaked  wooden 
saddles  gaily  painted  and  lacquered.  I  asked  the 
Wazir  to  explain  that  as  I  did  not  know  each  man  by 
sight,  I  should  be  glad  if  one  team  would  wear  a 
yellow  muslin  band  provided  from  the  muslin 
decorating  our  verandah.  They  all  smilingly  agreed. 
The  captain  of  the  other  team  then  came  up  to  say 
his  men  were  feeling  very  hurt,  and  might  they 
have  muslin  bands  too.  Whilst  they  were  being 
marked  with  blue,  the  Wazir  announced  that  I 
would  present  a  silver  cup  to  the  winners. 

The  ball  was  thrown  in  and  the  game  begun. 
There  were  no  goalposts,  the  ends  of  the  street  being 
counted  as  goals.  The  jingling  of  the  bells  on  the 
ponies'  bridles  and  reins  made  a  great  noise  as  the 
rabble  rode  at  each  other,  the  long  cloaks  of  the 
players  almost  hiding  the  ponies  as  they  circled  about. 


86 

The  short-handled  clumsy  sticks  were  more  like  golf 
drivers  than  polo  sticks,  but  in  spite  of  all  this  there 
was  some  brilliant  play.  The  ball  was  hit  several 
times  into  shops  which  had  forgotten  to  bar  their 
windows  and  broke  the  merchandise  inside  to  the 
delighted  jeers  and  cheers  of  the  crowd.  There  were 
no  chuckers,  and  the  game  seemed  endless.  When  the 
side  with  the  blue  bands  had  scored  five  goals  to 
the  others'  two  I  asked  the  Wazir  when  they  would 
stop,  as  the  ponies  must  be  exhausted. 

'*  When  your  honour  orders,"  was  the  astounding 
reply. 

If  I  had  known  this  strange  rule  I  should  long 
before  have  stopped  play,  in  pity  to  the  gallant 
little  ponies.  The  players  were  then  ranged  up  to 
receive  the  cup.  As  a  matter  of  form  I  enquired 
which  side  had  won,  both  captains  claimed  the 
victory,  and  in  a  moment  polo  sticks  were  raised  and 
a  battle  began !  Order  was  only  restored  when  the 
Wazir  explained  that  it  had  been  all  a  mistake  about 
the  silver  cup,  and  that  I  would  give  a  present  of 
money  to  both  victorious  sides  !  The  polo  sticks  were 
immediately  lowered  and  broad  smiles  replaced  the 


87 

scowls  of  an  instant  before.  This  little  function  over, 
the  street  was  again  cleared,  this  time  for  the  devil 
dance.  The  devil  dance  is  a  religious  ceremony,  and 
therefore  the  dancers  are  Lamas,  who  are  gorgeously 
dressed  in  embroidered  robes  and  embroidered  satin 
coats,  crowned  with  horrible  horned  masks.  Their 
absurd  lungings  and  plungings  are  very  monotonous 
until  they  become  frenzied  with  excitement  and 
dangerous  to  themselves.  The  drum  beaters  altered 
their  time  to  suit  the  dancers.  Amongst  the  watching 
crowd  a  lady  pressed  forward  and  allowed  me  to 
sketch  her  back  view,  showing  her  perak  (head  dress) 
and  pig  tail  ending  in  the  gaily  coloured  little  tassels. 
The  perak  she  wore  was  of  bright  red  cloth,  studded 
with  unusually  fine  turquoises.  The  number,  size 
and  quality  of  the  jewels  worn  on  the  perak  show  at 
a  glance  the  wealth  or  poverty  of  the  wearer. 

We  had  first  entered  Leh  in  the  setting  sun, 
and  in  the  setting  sun  we  left  it  on  our  long  ride  of 
19  marches  back  to  Srinagar:  and  the  World. 

THE    END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  oa  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subjea  to  immediate  recall. 


•       181 

Mo    19 


iCLF  (M) 


MAY  22  1968  7  8 


REC 

MARl' 

9iuf 

RE 

JUL  9- 

LD  21-10( 


RECEIVED 


HAY    8 'GO -10 


LOAN 


AUG  03 


m 


LD  2]A-45m-9,'67 
(H5067sl0)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


ivi311965 


YE  nf-039 


